One Hundred Coffees
by Younger Dr. Grey
Summary: The story of each and every one of those one hundred coffees that Kate owes Rick. Castle/Beckett. Now COMPLETE. Spoilers now include "Undead Again" in the EPILOGUE/START OF SEQUEL, which is what I just added. Fluff, angst, reality.
1. one through five

**Title:** One Hundred Coffees  
><strong>Author<strong>: _youngerdrgrey_  
><strong>Pairing:<strong> Castle/Beckett  
><strong>Summary:<strong> The story of each and every one of those one hundred coffees that Kate owes Rick. Castle/Beckett.  
><strong>Rating:<strong> T  
><strong>WarningsSpoilers:** the summary is as spoiler-y as it gets at this point. I will add things in for future episodes as they air though.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I own nothing. All rights for the characters and the world go to their owners. I, in no way, believe – or would lead others to believe – that I own _Castle_. Though, I would have no objections to having some time with this cast.

**Author's Note:** I couldn't resist writing this. The style for this fic is similar to the way people write "Five Times..." fics. Some of them will be complete scenes. Some will just be a few lines. I'll do five a chapter unless one winds up being really long. I'll try to post a chapter a week. Enjoy and tell me what you think.

* * *

><p><strong>one to five<br>**

* * *

><p><strong><em>1:<em>**

Kate leaves her therapist's office with the words still circling her mind._ I think I am_. She's ready. She's going to try. She gets halfway home when she spots a coffee shop. It's not one she frequents, but it should have what she needs. She's in and out in ten minutes. She doesn't stop to think it over or question herself until she's in the elevator, riding her way up to the loft. Before she can fully talk herself out of it, the elevator doors open. Castle's on the other side with his hand poised in the air to push the button. They stare at each other for a moment before Kate sticks her hand between the doors.

"Going down?"

He regards her for a moment and nods. He is. He steps in. Presses the button for the lobby. Watches the doors close. Kate fights her smile the entire way down. It's so ridiculous that this happened. Where is Castle even going? Probably out to run errands or something, and she's here with a fecking cup of coffee. Well, if she has it.

The doors open. Castle goes to step out of the elevator and Kate matches his steps. They walk to the door for the front of the building where the doorman gives Kate a questioning look. She ignores him and turns to face Castle directly. He turns to her. Her smile finally breaks through as she holds the cup out to him. He glances at it and plucks it gently from her hand. He turns it around so that as he takes the first sip she can read her own handwriting on the sleeve.

_# 1_.

**_2_**:

She waits this time until the next day they go to the precinct. He arrives to find a cup of coffee, still steaming, right next to his chair. He places down the coffee he got her onto her desk. She glances up from her paperwork to the cup. The sleeve on hers reads: _# Infinity_. She grins and points to the coffee that's for him. He finds her note and his eyes shoot back up to hers.

"How?" he asks.

Kate smirks. "I know a guy."

"Bobby told you what I wrote," Castle says. Kate merely returns to her paperwork. Castle watches her, waits for her to crack. She doesn't. He grabs his cup.

As he drinks, Kate mumbles victoriously, "And beyond."

**_3:_**

She drops it off at the front desk of a hotel crime scene on her way out to chat with the victim's family. When Castle arrives nearly ten minutes after she's gone, he finds CSU and the message _Snooze you lose. Drink up and catch up, Castle._ Somehow, he manages to beat her to the sister's house.

_**4:**_

Alexis gets another college letter. He calls her at eleven at night and tells her that he can't open it. Alexis wants him to, but what if it's a no?

Kate replies, "What if it's a yes?"

He says nothing. She gets there, still in her NYPD sweatshirt and yoga pants, nearly thirty minutes later. While she fixes drinks, he calls Alexis back down to the kitchen. They set the envelope in the center of the table and stare at it. For a while. Maybe it will open itself if they will it hard enough. Maybe it will catch on fire and then they'll never have to know. Maybe -

Alexis grabs the envelope and slices it open with a Shakespearean letter opener. She unfolds the paper, scans it, and sighs. Kate's face tenses while Rick's falls practically into his coffee.

"Kate was right," Alexis says softly. Kate's grip on the mug tightens. Right about what exactly? Please tell her it's what she thinks she's right about.

Rick hesitantly asks, "It's a yes?"

Alexis breaks into a large grin. "It's a yes! I'm going to college!"

Rick jumps up from the table in excitement. He topples over his cup in the process, but Kate's too busy watching him attack Alexis to notice or care. He spins the teenager around the room, chanting the name of the school at varying levels of intensity. As the author stops spinning, he meets Kate's gaze. The meaning in the look is much like the words on the mug she chose for him: _Thank you._

**_5:_**

They've been at the precinct for nearly twenty-four hours at this point. Exhaustion has made Kate more than a little friendly. In the break room, she leans into his shoulder while her cup brews. Every now and then, she feels his arm twitch. She knows why it does. He wants to put it around her. He loves her and he wants to be all macho and comforting. It's sweet. So she makes him an offer once she's got her cup in hand.

"You can put your arm around me, or you can take my expresso."

He debates. Slowly, his arm slides away and reaches around her. A grin starts forming on Kate's face. This is also sweet, in a them sort of way. She goes to say something about it, but then the hand on that traveling arm encloses around her cup. He pulls it from her grasp and back around that same shoulder. He takes a sip and nods to himself.

"That's delicious. I'm so glad we have a machine here. Let's go catch some bad guys, shall we?"

He walks back to the board with a smirk on his face. She watches him go. Watches him chuckle at his victory. Watches him get cozy against her desk. Watches his eyebrows furrow as he reads the addition she had Ryan put on the board.

_#5 - Really, Castle? That's your choice?_

He glances back at her in surprise. She rolls her eyes. He's so predictable. Men like Rick take the road that ultimately ticks people off enough until they cave in. It's just their strate-oh. Oh! Kate rushes back to the board excitedly.

"I know who the killer is!"

* * *

><p><em>So should I continue?<br>_


	2. six through ten

**Title:** One Hundred Coffees  
><strong>Summary:<strong> The story of each and every one of those one hundred coffees that Kate owes Rick. Castle/Beckett.  
><strong>WarningsSpoilers:** _NONE_  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> All rights for the characters and the world go to their owners. I, in no way, believe – or would lead others to believe – that I own _Castle_.

**Author's Note:** My brain has exploded from the response to the first chapter. I'm fairly certain it must be a fluke. It's not possible to get thirty-eight reviews, is it? Do you guys honestly like this that much? Well, here's the next five. Thanks for completely amazing me, and I hope you like it.

* * *

><p><strong>six to ten<br>**

* * *

><p><em><strong>6:<strong>_

From her seat on the swings, Kate watches leaves tumble in the wind. Two leaves in particular chase each other around what seems to be a chalk made hopscotch. The end is clear and in sight. Everyone with eyes can see where they're headed. Yet, the leaves take the longest path to get there. One of the leaves has obviously taken the season harder. It's more brittle and weathered. It's Kate's favorite. The healthier leaf nearly gets to the final square, but it loops around for its companion just before it crosses in. For some reason, that leaf breaks Kate's heart a bit. It might just be the day. It is the day.

"Kate."

His voice from behind her brings up the tears she has spent the entire day fighting down. She stays firmly facing forward. If she doesn't look at him, she won't cry. She won't feel. She won't break.

"Kate." He says her name again on the walk around the swing set. He reaches the front and stands directly in her line of vision. The leaves fade into the background. All that exists is Rick. Castle. Him. He squats down to match her downcast gaze. Once leveled, he makes sure she's listening. He keeps his hands to himself. Kate doesn't know whether she's happy or unnerved by it. He normally touches her. He feeds off of the contact. Why is there no contact?

"I know that you're going through a lot. I understand, Kate, but you can't shut me out. Today is a big day. Today is something to celebrate, not mourn, not bottle up. Talk to me, Kate. I'm here. I'm always here."

The word catches her breath in her chest. Always. She doesn't want to hear it. Not now. Not today. Six months ago today she heard the real thing, and the substitute just isn't enough right now.

"It's been six months, Castle. Six months and we're no closer to knowing who shot me, or who killed my mother, or what Roy died to protect. I don't feel bad for lashing out. I feel bad that there's nothing to show for all of this time. We wasted our time," she says.

Rick shakes his head. He shakes it so lightly that it could just be the wind. She wishes it were. She wishes that he agreed because this would be so much easier if he did.

"When have we ever wasted our time?" Rick asks. Her mind searches for an answer. That first case, sifting through letters. No, that started it all. The time right after Coonan was wheeled off to the morgue. No, she had needed that. She can still feel the strength of his hand on the small of her back, supporting her spine when all she had wanted to do was crawl into the ground and die. The magic tricks. The parenting advice. The freezer. The hangar. The entirety of their time together. Every second has helped her. Every stupid pun and suggestive comment has opened her up to this moment. To today.

When Kate starts crying, she hardly recognizes it. Rick says something else, but she doesn't hear it. She fights for breath that should not be this hard to get. The wind continues blowing and it sucks every ounce of independence right out of her. Rick's thumbs come up to wipe her tears, and she slides off of the seat, straight to the ground with him. He doesn't reach to hold her. He just keeps her face as dry as possible and waits. He's so damn patient. He's so… perfect.

An apology stumbles from Kate's lips between gasps. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." His arms do wrap around her then. He pulls her into his chest and rocks the way he used to when Alexis cried. Kate's been reduced to a child, a sputtering child. She hates this case. She hates Gates for not allowing them to continue looking. She hates Raglan for never telling her enough. She hates Roy for never telling her anything. She hates Coonan for killing her. She hates the guy who ordered the hit. She hates… everyone. Everyone but Rick. She can't hate Rick. She can't do anything but love him. The leaves come into her vision again. Finally, the weathered leaf makes it to the final square where her companion has been waiting all along.

Kate wipes at her own tears. She mumbles, "Is coffee a good apology?"

"For the shirt? I have plenty more at home," deflects Rick.

Kate won't allow it. He can't let her off the hook. "For yelling at you. For blaming you when all you did was try to save me. I can't apologize enough for kicking you out. You didn't deserve that."

"Kate, you don't need to-"

"Please." Rick's mouth stops, still open. Kate Beckett doesn't plead. The last time she said that word to him they were at the hangar. He recognizes the significance. "Let me buy you some bad coffee to make it up to you. I'll even buy you ice cream if you want. I don't do this often, so let me."

Slowly, thoughtfully, Rick nods. He doesn't say it, but she hears the words as clearly as she did six months ago. _I love you, Kate_. She just hopes that this shows him that she feels the same.

**_7:_**

The next day, she still feels guilty for her reaction. She leaves him a carton of coffee flavored ice cream on his doormat. The note reads: _Every time I let you choose, you pick the wrong one. Here's the best of both worlds for the writer/wannabe homicide detective. Be at the precinct by ten, or I really will kick your ass away from here._

The first thing Rick does when he gets to the precinct is tell her that it doesn't count for her one hundred. She ignores him. Since when does she follow his rules?

**_8:_**

A suspect/Nikki Heat fan gets a little handsy with Kate. Rick knocks the little slime bug's lights out. Unfortunately for Rick, Kate is not the type to be turned on by alpha male jealousy… much. She buys him an iced coffee to put on his knuckles while she grills the suspect solo. During the interrogation, she writes him a message and puts it on the mirror.

_Save it for the page, Rocky, or you'll get the chance to work with the real Roach. Permanently._

Next time, Rick uses his big boy words. And Kate uses her gun.

**_9:_**

They split a cup, but she paid for it so it definitely fits. They're in a rush to a crime scene and don't have time to get a separate cup. He's thirsty. She's thirsty. It's not a big deal. It isn't.  
>Except it totally is.<p>

**_10:_**

She calls it a milestone cup. One-tenth of the way done. He tells her not to sell herself short. He's sure he'll save her life again soon. What's the count now? Ten? Twenty?

"Eleven." The solid answer makes Rick's eyebrows shoot up. She shrugs, "It's been eleven for a while, Castle."

"W-what's the eleventh?"

"The sniper case. What's the first is the better question," she says. There's a moment where she waits for his curiosity to get the best of him. It does. Obviously.

"What's the first?"

"February 1999. Flowers for Your Grave, quickly followed by Death of a Prom Queen, In a Hail of Bullets, and At Dusk We Die."

Rick gets this sappy look on his face like she's given him the new Call of Duty or something. It's one of those moments where it's written all over his face how much he loves her. It takes her breath away.

"You really are a fan, aren't you?" Rick asks in disbelief. Kate nods.

She admits, "I bid online for a signed book once. I won."

Rick chuckles. "How much did you pay?"

Kate flushes as she recalls the numerous zeroes that went to the Make a Wish foundation that day. "I would rather not say."

He nods. He accepts it. He'll probably go and search the second he heads back to the loft. For now, though, he raises the milestone cup and says, "A toast. To ten marvelous cups and ten times that you've saved me."

"Ten?"

"You just being alive has saved me, Kate. It's saved all of us."

She takes his cup and pours a small amount into her old mug from that morning. She hands him his and hoists her own into the air.

"To ten."

Rick sings what's written on his cup, "And many more."

* * *

><p><em>In this chapter, the apology coffee was inspired by a suggestion from <strong>lv2bnsb1<strong>. Feel free to suggest coffee ideas in your reviews._

_So, gang, there's the second five. Are you guys still on board for the next ninety?  
><em>


	3. eleven through fifteen

**Title:** One Hundred Coffees  
><strong>Summary:<strong> The story of each and every one of those one hundred coffees that Kate owes Rick. Castle/Beckett.  
><strong>WarningsSpoilers:** _NONE_  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> All rights for the characters and the world go to their owners. I, in no way, believe – or would lead others to believe – that I own _Castle_.

**Author's Note:** I still can't believe the reception to this. I'm a bit worried to disappoint you guys now. Hope you enjoy the next five.

* * *

><p><strong>eleven to fifteen<br>**

* * *

><p><strong><em>11:<em>**

Kate wakes up from a nightmare in a cold sweat. Flashes of red and blue lights and paper dolls and blood spilling in alleys consume her. The latest case at the precinct involves a body in an alley, but the details are wrong. So wrong. The bullet that killed him went through his brain from his mouth, painfully and effectively silencing him. And the guy's dead but every time she looks at the victim she imagines him with eyes so blue that she drowns in them. In her nightmares, he's Rick and she watches as it happens. As he dies. As the lights go out.

She can't shake it. She walks the length of her apartment again and again. She hears Rick's cries. She sees Alexis crumble. She feels it. Her ear is to the phone before she knows it. And then it's ringing. Then he's there. He's alive. He's talking to her.

"Did you crack the case?" Rick asks instantly.

She shakes her head before realizing he can't see her. That's probably for the best. She's a mess. "Almost. Uh, why are you still awake?"

"I am working on my masterpiece," Rick says.

"At two in the morning? What could Nikki possibly be getting up to?" Kate asks. There's a pause where she can just picture Rick raising his eyebrows lecherously. She smiles for the first time since waking up. "Other than that."

Rick laughs. "Actually, Nikki and Rook were fighting and Nikki just walked away." And Kate's smile is gone. She walked away? "I know that she normally toughs it out, but so much has happened and she…. She went for a run, but I don't know if she's coming back."

"She will," Kate says.

"How do you know?" he asks.

Because she loves him. Because she can't stay away. "Because they're Rooki, Castle. She'll come back."

"And then what?"

Kate chuckles, "Are you writing the book, or am I?"

"It's a team effort. What happens next, Kate?"

This is why she loves talking to Rick. He takes her out of it all. Even if the characters are them, it's a different world with different chances. Kate doesn't only want herself to be more than who she is, but Nikki Heat too. Nikki needs Rook, even if she doesn't want to.

Kate tells him, "Nikki gets back home, and he's on the steps because he doesn't want to go but he can't just sit inside and wait for her. She ran off a lot of her anger. She's calmer. She's got all this adrenaline in her and she feels the weight of what she almost ruined. She tells him everything."

"Everything?" Rick repeats incredulously.

"Everything. Right there on the steps. It'll be symbolic of moving on in the relationship."

When Rick speaks, she hears the reverence in his voice. "You really are extraordinary." Her cheeks burn and she's glad again for the fact that he can't see her. "But, Rook doesn't care if Nikki keeps things to herself. He knows that she believes it's what's best." Are they still talking about the book? Either way, Kate's response is the same.

"She's wrong." If she actually accepted her life with him, the world would be so much better. They would be together without all of the bullshit and the confusion. No more walking on eggshells and falling apart separately. They would be happy.

"Maybe she is. Maybe she isn't."

She isn't. Kate is sure. She's been wrong all of this time. She still is. She might think she's ready, but she's not making the large leaps forward that she wants to. She's still holding back, pretending that she's working on this case when all she wants is to know that Rick is okay. He shouldn't defend her. He should fight her. Fight her to be there. Fight her to stay there. But how can Kate say that without sounding desperate and demanding? She'd be a hypocrite to say it. So she says nothing.

Silence looms over them. There's a soft rumble on her side. There's a loud honk on his. A car honk. Her stomach drops while her heart picks up speed.

"Where are you?" she asks.

He's quiet. Not in the way she was, but as if he can wait her out and not have to say it at all. He speaks quickly, "On my way to your apartment." There's no question in his voice. Only determination. He won't turn back. He'll meet her on the steps. She wants it. Her soul hurts she wants it so badly. Still, she plays her part.

She says, "Go back to the loft, Castle."

"No. You can pretend you didn't, but you had a nightmare, Kate." She pulls the phone tighter to her ear. How…? "I've spent enough time with you to be able to tell what's going on with you. This case is messing with your head. I'm here to help. I brought my laptop so I can write your brilliant suggestions while you try and sleep. I'll be there in fifteen."

Good. The thought of him being here is enough to erase the images. He's not in the morgue. He's not in an alley. He's with her. Or, he will be.

"I'll leave the key in the mail and have coffee brewing," she says. It's all the yes he needs.

"Thank you," he says. She forgets sometimes that he has to protect her. She forgets, but she never stops appreciating it.

She jokes, "Try saying that after a night on my couch."

His resulting laugh is one of the last things she hears that night.

**_12:_**

Rick wakes up to the smell of coffee at seven the next morning. He groggily moves to a sitting position on the couch, pushing his laptop off of his stomach and onto the actual sofa. He makes his way quietly towards the kitchen. The coffee machine is on just like it was when he got there last night. Unlike last night, Kate is awake and moving throughout the space. She reaches up into a cabinet and her oversized T-shirt moves up slightly. She doesn't make to fix it, which probably says something about how comfortable she is in this space and with him there. She brings down two bowls and turns to put them on the counter. She stills when she spots him.

He takes her in. She's chosen a green T-shirt and it makes her eyes pop in the early morning light. It's tighter around the neck than the sleep shirts he remembers from two years ago. She shields her heart even in sleep. Her face is relaxed, a lot more than he imagines it must have been when she called him. Five hours of sleep isn't great for her, but he'll take it over none.

"Good morning," he says.

His voice kicks her into gear a bit and she places down the bowls. "Morning, Castle." She grabs two spoons and two mugs and opens the fridge for milk. Rick realizes then what her plan is. Cereal? How painfully and simply domestic. Every other time that there has been a sleepover, either no breakfast or a large one has followed. The entire week after her apartment blew up Rick made a mini-buffet every morning. Today, though, the meal is normal, as if this night isn't something out of the ordinary but just another facet of their lives. He's smiling without realizing it.

He steps further into the kitchen. "Want some help?"

Kate shakes her head. "It's cereal, Castle. I can handle it myself." As soon as the words leave her mouth, a look flitters across her face. It's a mesh-pot of so many things, but Rick picks out remorse and fear and a bit of frustration. At him? He wonders. The look is gone before he can comment on it. Kate's speaking again anyway. "But you can get a box down. It's in the cabinet over there."

He goes where she points and opens the cabinet. He grins again as he looks at the contents. Most of it is healthy food, simple snacks that Kate can have at any time of the day. There are three boxes of cereal - Honey Nut Cheerios, Special K, and Lucky Charms. He pulls out the third kind and shakes it to grab Kate's attention.

"Why, Detective Beckett," he says playfully. She looks at the box and her cheeks redden slightly.

"Grow up, Castle."

"Says the woman with marshmallows for breakfast."

She shakes her head and pours coffee into each of the two of the mugs. Rick puts the Lucky Charms on the table. He grabs the bowls and spoons and adds those to the center as well. He walks up behind Kate as she adds sugar to the drinks. He stands a bit closer than he normally would. He's feeling extra bold this morning. When she goes to turn, she's flush against him and she has to lean back into the counter to stop from falling into him. Not that he would mind.

Kate's eyes take a moment to focus and her body quakes during the process. She pushes one mug into his hand. She dares him silently to do something. He considers it. He could kiss her right here and now. It wouldn't take much effort. He would have to lean down since she's not wearing her heels. He doesn't mind that either. Even as he pictures the soft caress of her lips and the slight purr of her whimper, he knows he won't. It doesn't stop him from wishing.

He takes a step back that allows her to get off of the counter. She walks to the table and takes her seat. When he sits down, he starts imagining more. Every morning will be like this one. They'll pick different cereals some days. Maybe he'll be the first one awake. A call can interrupt them, but neither will care. Or maybe they'll care a lot. Maybe it will interrupt what should have happened at the counter and Kate'll rest her forehead against his chin in a second of breathlessness. Now that's a morning routine he could get used to.

"Could you pass the milk?"

_**13:**_

Kate puts a cup in his hand as they stare at the murder board. The fake-Rick's picture still waits in the center. Ryan and Esposito stand on either side of the board, closer than Kate and Rick to look at the smaller details. It's the sixth day on the case. There's no talking. Only thinking. Still, Rick breaks his inspection of the board to offer her a smile. She nods in response. They turn back to the board together.

**_14:_**

When they crack the case, they celebrate at the Old Haunt. The whole team is there, Lanie included. They work their way through hot wings and pool tables and eventually just wind up spread out in a circular booth. Lanie and Esposito are talking to each other without the hostility. It's a big step that warms Kate's heart. She's still counting the days until they get back together again.

Rick leans closer to her. He whispers in her ear, "How long do you think it will take for them to get back together?"

She chuckles. "The only thing stronger than their feelings are their pride. I give it a few more months."

"I give it one," Rick says.

Kate turns a bit more to face him. "Want to bet on it?"

He smirks. "What do I get when I win?"

"Not a chance, Castle. I've known them a lot longer than you. They'll never sort everything out in one month," Kate says.

"Then why are you so scared, Detective? Put your money where your mouth is, or… your car."

Her face drops. "My car?"

"I get to drive, for a month."

"No way."

"You said I won't win. Or do you think I might know your friends better than you do?"

Kate's eyes narrowed. "Fine. When I win, I get…" she glances around the bar and she spots his office. "Your smart board."

Rick gasps. "I write my books on those, Kate. You can't-"

"I won't. If you're right."

"I am."

"Then you have nothing to worry about."

Rick spends the rest of the night drowning his doubt in alcohol. In the morning, Kate buys him a coffee for his hangover and writes on the cup: _Drink all you want. I'm still going to win._

_**15:**_

Rick texts her at two in the morning. Her phone buzzes, but she barely stirs from her slumber. When she awakes, she sees his message.

**Nikki and Rook are at it again… - RC**

Her mind instantly goes to the gutter. She considers texting him back but decides against it. Quickly, she gets dressed, grabs her keys, and heads out. She stops at a shop along the way and makes it the loft in record time. She gets to the door, knocks, and leaves the cup sitting there. The entire drive home she thinks about her message. Should she have written that? Is it too much? She glances at the picture she snapped on her iPhone. Scribbled above the order are her taunting words.

_I'm sure you've got a whole collection of movies that could help you figure out what comes next. You don't need my help._

Her phone pings with a message. Rick asks, **Are you offering it?**

She does text back this time.** I'd say in your dreams but…**

**You are just full of surprises today. Should I be worried about the little blue specks on top of my whipped cream?**

She cackles. **If your scene lasts more than four hours :)**

There's a lull between messages. Kate worries again that she's pushed too far, said too much for this tentative relationship of theirs. They've pushed a lot of boundaries recently. Most of it is her fault. She's the one who has to say no before they go too far. She's the mature one of the partnership. She's got to keep control. The flirty text messages and the sleepovers - what is she thinking?

Rick's text comes in. **:) Thanks for the coffee, Kate.**

He let it go? She grins. He simply let it go without pushing, without carrying it into even more dangerous territory. She hesitates before her next text, but only for a second. She knows what she wants to say, even if she's been saying it far too often these days.

**Always.**

* * *

><p><em>Feel free to suggest coffee ideas in your reviews.<em>

_Eighty-five left. What are you thinking now?  
><em>


	4. sixteen through twenty

**Title:** One Hundred Coffees  
><strong>Summary:<strong> The story of each and every one of those one hundred coffees that Kate owes Rick. Castle/Beckett.  
><strong>WarningsSpoilers:** _NONE_  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> All rights for the characters and the world go to their owners. I, in no way, believe – or would lead others to believe – that I own _Castle_.

**Author's Note:** Another five up for all of you folks.

* * *

><p><strong>sixteen to twenty<br>**

* * *

><p><em><strong>16:<strong>_

Kate brings the coffee with her to the early morning crime scene. As he reaches the body, she hands him the cup. He appreciatively takes a sip. Kate pointedly ignores Lanie's curious and slightly accusatory gaze. If Lanie won't tell her about Esposito, Kate won't tell her about Rick. Not that there's anything to tell.

Except for, well, sleepovers and hugs and flirting and the fact that Kate's ready but not _that_ ready and - hmm, maybe she will tell Lanie. Kate glances at the victim, purple from bruises and some sort of odd body paint that makes Kate want to wince and laugh simultaneously. After, she decides. She'll tell Lanie after they finish this case.

**_17:_**

Kate has number seventeen in her hand as she leans on her desk. She watches the elevator, but she feels the eyes on her. Ryan peers at her from his desk, all subtly abandoned, while Esposito continues on with some paperwork. The lot of them are silent until Kate has enough. She gives Ryan a look that asks what he's doing. He shrugs.

Ryan asks, "Why'd you get your own coffee?"

"Am I not allowed to buy coffee, Ryan?"

"Castle buys your coffee. It's your thing," Ryan says. Kate finds herself heating up at that. Other people notice? Should she be flattered or just creeped out that they pay this much attention?

Esposito speaks up. He tells Ryan, "Dude, that coffee is for Castle. She's bringing him some now." And Esposito has this smug shit-eating grin on his face.

Ryan's eyebrows shoot up like a kid at Christmas. "Really?"

Esposito nods. "It's cute. They swap cups like an old married couple swaps the food they don't want."

Kate interjects, "Castle and I aren't an old married couple."

Ryan argues, "Oh but you are, and that drink is your good morning kiss. As work spouses of course."

Kate wants to say something in response, but Rick arrives and swoops the cup out of her hand. He puts her cup in her grip and takes his seat. He pauses at the stares from everyone.

"What?"

All three detectives turn back to their desks.

**_18:_**

It's not inspired by Ryan's comment. She swears to herself that it isn't. She just so happens to want to get 'good morning' written on Rick's cup for number eighteen. She tells Bobby from their normal shop to do as such. Bobby adds his own flare. When Kate gets it, it reads:_ 18) Good morning, my darling. I love you._ Kate glares at Bobby the entire walk out of the shop. She buys another cup at another place and gives Rick that one instead. She keeps the original cup in her apartment. Maybe she'll give it to him one day.

_**19:**_

Kate waits in line at Rick's book signing for over thirty minutes. She stands behind a large woman in her forties with too much perfume on and a younger woman with not enough. As she nears the front, she hears him just as she did on that fateful day three months after her shooting. He's polite and friendly, but she can hear the creeping exhaustion in his voice. Looks like she's here at the right time.

When she gets to the table, he's looking down. She sets the coffee right in front of him, much like she did with Naked Heat. He glances at it and his eyes jump up to her quickly and excitedly. All traces of tiredness leave him upon seeing her.

"Kate!"

She grins. "Thought you might be feeling a bit down. It's a slow day at the precinct so-"

"Can't just admit that you missed me?" teases Rick. Kate grins, which basically affirms that - yeah - she missed him.

She says, "Enjoy the drink, Castle."

"I will. Thanks, Kate."

_**20:**_

The thanks continue on into that lovely American day for it. Kate makes a habit of reading Heat Wave every Thanksgiving. She does it in honor of a few things - how thankful she is to have Rick in her life, how much the books mean to her, how far she and Rick have come, and also because on that day the fictional version of herself lost her mother. So it means something, as silly as Kate would feel to admit it to anyone.

She's reading it when Rick calls and asks if she's with her dad. She isn't. She's home, lounging in the pillows and sipping a glass of wine. He invites her to the loft in a very charming way. Well, semi-charming because he mostly just demands she come and join them. Kate tells him to spend it with Martha and Alexis. The latter pipes in instantly, saying that she wants Kate to eat with them. Martha agrees and the far away quality of her voice informs Kate that they must already be cooking and scattering throughout the loft. She can picture it. Rick in the kitchen, stirring pots and pans of delicious food; Alexis, doing some reading in between peeling potatoes; Martha, doing the same thing Kate is now on the sofa with Christmas carols playing in the background. Kate wants it. She wants to see it with her own eyes.

She sighs at her own weakness and tells Rick that she won't feel right if she doesn't bring something.

He says, "Bring some coffee and an appetite. I have the rest under control."

She does as commanded and, honestly, it turns out to be the best Thanksgiving either has had in a while.

* * *

><p><em>Feel free to suggest coffee ideas in your reviews. I used three in this one. #17 - <strong>merry-merry-me<strong> suggested that someone should notice Kate buying coffees now. #19 - **KBRC87** suggested "bookstore". #20 - **intothefire17** suggested "Thanksgiving"  
><em>

_Eighty left. What are you thinking now?  
><em>


	5. twentyone through twentyfive

**Title:** One Hundred Coffees  
><strong>Summary:<strong> The story of each and every one of those one hundred coffees that Kate owes Rick. Castle/Beckett.  
><strong>WarningsSpoilers:** _NONE_  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> All rights for the characters and the world go to their owners. I, in no way, believe – or would lead others to believe – that I own _Castle_.

**Author's Note:** I feel like it has been forever since I updated last... it's been six days. As per usual, mistakes are my own on this so let me know if anything is spelled wrong or sounds funky or anything.

* * *

><p><strong>twenty-one to twenty-five<br>**

* * *

><p><em><strong>21:<strong>_

Black Friday shopping with Martha Rodgers is like participating in the Olympics. Rick has definitely gotten at least three paper cuts and he's certain that an old lady with a walker bruised a few of his ribs while trying to get to a flat screen. Times like these he wishes he weren't American and a top selling crime mystery novelist with a shopaholic mother. At the very least, he is no longer with Meredith. Shopping with her actually did put him in a hospital once… by her doing. His next bride will be much calmer, much more sophisticated, much more-

"Kate!"

The lights in the mall get brighter the instant Rick spots her. From there, his senses kick into overdrive to take in everything that is Kate Beckett. Her eyes glow, smiling in the way her lips don't quite seem to be able to do. Not yet, but soon they will. Her heels clack, even louder than the shrieks of his mother in the background. Her hand extends, gifting him with one thing that he would gladly spend his money on any day.

"Alexis told me to save you. No body, so coffee instead," Kate offers. He takes it graciously.

"It's sanity in a cup. Feel free to stick around. Maybe you'll find something you like. May I suggest Victoria's Secret?"

Kate chuckles, and it reminds him of when he invited her to the Hamptons. Maybe he should do that again. Next summer, they'll finally spend one together, lounging by the beach, swimming in the water, sipping wine in bed….

"Nice try, Castle."

He shrugs, his mind still partially somewhere else. "A man can hope."

_**22:**_

She's never looked as broken as she does in that moment. There are close seconds, ones others haven't been privy to. Like when she broke down in the hall during the sniper case, at the hanger, alone in a cabin in the woods when all she wanted was to curl into Rick's arms and…. She falls apart a lot these days. She's been getting better, but today she needs a little more than just her too silent apartment for comfort. She needs her mom.

Her phone is next to her on the grass, silent and flipped over. No interruptions until she's ready. She trades the words on the tombstone. She pauses at each letter, each small reminder of what has helped bring her to this point. She talked about the wall inside of her. She hasn't talked about this marble block wedged deep into the center of her heart. Some days, it twists and bumps into that little hole the bullet made and Kate can't do anything but gasp at the pain. Gulp down the cries and the unfairness and the 'why me's.

There was one day where the pain had been pretty exceptional and all Kate could ask herself was why she had to suffer. For a fleeting second, Kate wanted a better sniper, one who would have just ended it instead of putting her on this new, more difficult path.

That was weeks ago. Kate doesn't think like that anymore. Except….

She hears a leaf crunch behind her. To his credit, Rick doesn't make another move after that. He waits. She thinks. She should feel enraged that he's here. She doesn't bring people here. He shouldn't be at her mother's grave with her. But she's not angry. She's almost relieved. He pulls her out of her funks. She needs that. So she picks up the thermos that's next to her phone and she holds it out to Rick. There are a few more seconds of silence before he moves forward and takes it from her. He unscrews the lid and takes a sip. She doesn't have to see his face to see the surprise there.

She says, "I figured you would find me."

He doesn't say it, but she almost wishes he did. She wishes that he said their word and made this whole day brighten a bit. Instead, he takes a seat and leans into her, shoulder to shoulder. She scoots forward slightly, which allows her to rest on his chest. His arm sneaks out and wraps around her waist to hold her in place. He doesn't have to. There's nowhere else she'd rather be.

_**23:**_

They have another sleepover. It's not intentional. They're working a case and creating theory on the couch when he falls asleep. She's tired herself and she doesn't want to wake him. She doesn't even want to move. She puts down the paper in her hand and gently, hesitantly lays her head on his chest. Her breath hitches at the warmth and the steady thump-thump of his heart. She resists the urge to look up at his face. Is he smiling? Is he blinking awake and wondering what on Earth she's doing? Is he frowning? She moves to push herself off of him, but his arms stop her and pull her in. She stiffens further at the motion. He's awake? She listens, though, to the slow pulse of his heart and feels the rise and fall of his chest. Rick could never pull that off if he was awake. He can hardly pull off a straight face at his own jokes, let alone a perfectly calm body while making a move. She forces herself to relax. From there, it doesn't take long for him to lull her to sleep.

There's a note and a still warm couch cushion when she returns to consciousness. The note reads:_ I __have__ an__ idea__ for__ who __the __killer__ is.__ Get __ready,__ get__ coffee,__ and __meet__ me__ at __the__ crime__ scene__ in __an __hour._

_P.S. This is the second time I've slept on your couch. I say you invest in a comfier one. Perhaps even a smaller one so you can't try and slink away. Then again, I could just share your bed._

_P.P.S. In advance, apples._

_**24:**_

She does look into a comfier couch. Her father has one that fits all of the requirements. It would even match the style of her apartment. The only issue is that she needs a bit of help to get it in and her old one out. She enlists Rick, Espo, and Lanie. Ryan has wedding details to iron out, so she forgives his absence. Rick and Espo are bringing her couch out of the apartment while she and Lanie situate the new one. Lanie spends the entire hour they're together to stare at Kate. Once the boys are out, Kate says, "Do you want to ask questions first, or just let me talk?"

"I've got a few questions. You answer and then we'll see if you have to talk," Lanie says. She moves around the couch to Kate's side and asks, "Why are you swapping couches with your dad?"

Kate considers a lie, but it's better to get it over with. "Castle wants something comfier and smaller in my apartment."

"And you're taking interior design recs from him because…?"

"Because he's wound up spending the night on the couch a few times. It's not a big deal."

Lanie narrows her eyes. "Anything between you two is a big deal. Why does it have to be smaller?"

Kate thinks back to the note and her face warms a bit. She practically mumbles, "So that I don't have room to run away."

"His words?"

"His words."

Lanie thinks a bit. Kate wonders what's next. She's already filled Lanie in on the coffee situation and now minus the mini-cemetery and the Esplaine bet, Lanie knows all of the little details. What else does Lanie want to know?

"Are you happy?" The question catches Kate off-guard. She glances at her friend and sort of just waits for more. Happy with what? The couch has been around for a long time. She knows it's perfect for snuggling up and forgetting the world. She used to sleep there some days when she came back from college, or when she took care of her dad during her days at the academy. Though, Kate knows Lanie probably means with Castle.

Is Kate happy? They're not in a relationship, not a defined one anyway. Nothing much has changed over the last few weeks, or months. They're still Castle and Beckett. Well, now they're Castle and Kate. He never calls her Beckett anymore. He calls her Kate, with this wistful look in his eye as if he can't even believe she lets him that close. She'll let him closer. She's working on it. They're working on it together.

Rick makes his way through the door with Esposito behind him. Her eyes find his and she grins just a bit. She points to the mug on the counter for him and nods at Lanie.

"Yeah, I am."

_**25:**_

Rick paces up and down the hall in the precinct. He's frustrated. Meredith has blown into town and her normal whirlwind has somehow ended with the Castle family angel being broken. This angel, he rants, has been on top of their Christmas tree every year for Alexis' entire life. This will be her last year before going off to college and she won't even be able to enjoy that tradition one more time. He won't get to watch her put it at the top of the tree and snap the photo and - he's more disappointed than angry. Still, he runs a hole in the floor and makes Kate dizzy. She tells him she'll be right back and snatches up her wallet. One hour and fifteen stores later, Kate returns with a small box. Rick has, by this point, sat down in his chair. She puts the box in his lap and tells him not to shake it. Curiously, he opens the lid. Inside is the closest angel she could find to their old one and a mug.

She reads the words on the mug aloud, "Start new traditions."

He gives her a small smile. "Alright, Kate." He looks him, a new teasing, hopeful glint in his eye. "Help us decorate?"

"I haven't really celebrated Christmas in years, Castle. Are you sure you want me helping you out?"

He nods. "Someone will have to help me when Alexis is gone." He says it casually, but she hears everything that's laced in that sentence. He doesn't say a specific time, like next year, because every year he'll need someone. Kate. He wants her there every December, every everything most likely.

She finds herself nodding lightly, shyly. She hopes he doesn't comment on it.

He asks, "Is the mug an every year thing? A fortune coffee?"

"It's a 2011 special. It even comes with a free refill courtesy of the espresso machine in the break room."

His eyes narrow. "That doesn't count."

"What if I fill it?" she asks.

"Nope."

"That counts, Castle."

"I bought the machine."

"I bought the mug."

"It doesn't count."

"Then I'm not helping you decorate."

He opens his mouth to argue, but then he closes it. Good man. "Fine, it counts."

Kate smirks triumphantly the entire way to the break room. That's one tradition that will never end - Kate wins. Every time.

* * *

><p><em>Feel free to suggest coffee ideas in your reviews. I used two in this one. <em>#21 - <strong>The Red Fedora<strong> suggested that a rotten day for Castle be made better by coffee. #22 - **KBRC87 **said cemetery._  
><em>

_We're one-fourth of the way done folks! Only seventy-five left. What are you thinking now?  
><em>


	6. twentysix through thirty

**Title:** One Hundred Coffees  
><strong>Summary:<strong> The story of each and every one of those one hundred coffees that Kate owes Rick. Castle/Beckett.  
><strong>WarningsSpoilers:** _Cuffed_  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> All rights for the characters and the world go to their owners. I, in no way, believe – or would lead others to believe – that I own _Castle_.

**Author's Note:** I finished watching Cuffed and almost instantly started writing this. All five were done in the span of a little under an hour. If you spot any mistakes, let me know.

* * *

><p><strong>twenty-six to thirty<br>**

* * *

><p><em><strong>26:<strong>_

Kate's still chuckling to herself about the next time comment as she slides onto her motorcycle. She buckles on the helmet, situates herself, and -

"Kate!"

She turns at the sound of her name like she does every time. Rick runs through the doors and out towards her. He's still got that dopey smile on his face. It's the one he gives her a lot these days, the one where it's obvious just how much he loves her. She likes seeing it. She likes seeing him.

"Yeah, Castle?"

He falters for a moment. "You said 'next time.' I was just wondering if I should start keeping a spare key to your cuffs on me."

That's not what he's wondering. He's wondering when she plans on hitching them, whether it be figuratively or literally. He's wondering when she'll finally be his.

"Not yet. Maybe in a few months," she says. Hearing it out loud makes her heart sink a bit. A few months is a long time. Can she wait that long? Can he?

"Fine. Though, we did just survive another near death experience. I think that calls for a celebration," he reasons.

She grins. Nods. "Okay. Have anything in mind?"

"Coffee at the loft and a theory building session."

"On?"

"Esplaine. Come on, I have to know what they're arguing about. I only have a few weeks left before you get my smart board," he says.

She leans forward a bit on her bike, towards him. "And why would I help you?"

"Your punishment doesn't affect your livelihood. I can drive you to and from everywhere. Work, crime scenes, scary foreclosed homes that lead to us being locked in a cellar with a tiger." He gives her a knowing look.

She sends an affronted one back. "It was your idea that brought us there, Castle. Besides, your punishment simply means you have to spend more time at my apartment with the couch you forced me to get for you."

"You got the couch out of your own free will. You want me there," Rick says.

Kate doesn't reply. She does. Their eyes meet. He smiles as he realizes what her not saying anything means. This is what he's like at night. He reads her mind. He listens. He pokes fun and makes her smile. He loves her. She says it to herself about a thousand times a day. She'll probably stop saying it one day, stop reminding herself. Today, she thinks about it. He loves her. He may have talked about cutting off her wrist, but he would never hurt her. Not if he could help it. So why should she hurt him? Being apart certainly feels like pain to her.

"I'm not in tight black leather. Think you can handle riding with me?" she asks him.

His eyes light up. "Really?" He punches his fist into the air and bounces a bit closer. "Best day ever." He slips onto the bike behind her. It's sort of reminiscent of when they pushed the freezer, only this time he can enjoy it as much as he wants. She will too.

"Okay, Castle, hold on."

His breath is hot against her neck as he whispers, "To what?"

She only smirks before putting the bike in motion. He can decide himself. It's a day for adventure after all.

_**27:**_

She gets a text from Gates the next day. (**Where ****are**** you?**** -****Captain**) It would normally be frustrating to have to check in like a child. Now, it's merely embarrassing. Kate feels like she's doing the walk of shame and there wasn't even sex involved. Despite that, she's in Rick's sweatshirt at the coffee shop instead of at the precinct. His scent surrounds her. His warmth floods her. His voice invades her ears. From next to her?

She turns towards the second cash register and there he is. He finishes saying her order. He gazes up at the menu again, a habit she's sure he picked up back when he still got his own coffee. She leans over and tells the barista to add his order to the bill. He looks down at her with shock, which quickly clouds into something else entirely at the sight of his clothes on her. She knows that look as well. He hides it normally, but the look of lust is a little prevalent in the early morning hours before coffee and sanity kick in. She gives the woman her card, signs for the drinks, and saunters to wait for the two coffees. He follows, trailing her like the lovestruck puppy he is.

They say nothing while waiting. They just stand there. Side by side. Shoulder to shoulder. Grins on their faces. It's a good thing Bobby isn't working today or they would never hear the end of it.

"Husband? Wife? Husband? Husband?"

The titles are called out a few times before Rick's eyes narrow. Kate's do as well. They couldn't mean… no…. She makes eye contact with the woman at the counter who dangles the drinks and holds them out specifically to Kate. Kate's face flushes lightly, but she goes to get them nonetheless.

The barista says, "Bobby told me to write that the next time you ordered two. He said his and hers cups would brighten your day."

Kate's speechless. Rick isn't. He picks up his cup from Kate's hand and says, "It does. She simply isn't good at showing her feelings. Come on, dear. We'll be late for work."

She glares at him the entire way out of the cafe. And once they get to the precinct. And for another hour on top of that. She only stops when a body drops and he tells her to relish one of the last few times she'll be driving there. Then she just laughs at him.

_**28:**_

Kate goes to the loft with a coffee for Rick. She knocks on the door and it opens on a sniffling Alexis. The high school senior is a wreck, a botched exam paper clutched tightly in her tiny palm. Kate isn't sure where it's coming from, but she knows what to do. She brings Alexis back in to the loft and to the couch. They sit down. Kate asks what's wrong. Alexis speaks. For a long time. Her ability to ramble on rivals her father's. Kate listens and adds her own advice. It goes on for a while. Sometime in there, Kate gives the coffee to Alexis. The redhead accepts it and downs it easily. It seems to calm her. She reaches over at the end of it - and what seems to be the end of their heart-to-heart - and hugs Kate. She walks up to her room, leaving the empty coffee cup on the floor of the living room. Kate brings it into the kitchen to dispose of it. She finds Rick instead. He can't stop looking at her, staring at her, memorizing every detail of her. She flushes brighter than she has in a long time. She tells him she'll bring him a new one later. He tells her that she doesn't have to. It counts. Actually, it means everything. As Kate hears Alexis's laughter ringing from upstairs, she kind of can't help but agree.

_**29:**_

She gives him another one anyway. She waits until a day when he's moping around. On it, she writes:_ #29) __like__ daughter,__ like __father.__ Want __to__ talk?_ He does. They do. All day.

_**30:**_

She tells Bobby to cut it out. She assures him that all of his crazy stunts are actually hurting their chances of getting together. She also tells him that it's borderline harassment and that's not a road he wants to go down.

Bobby's response? "Will you and Mr. Castle be cuddled on a motorcycle on that one too?"

Kate takes the coffee and leaves. Teenage shippers. What can you do?

* * *

><p><em>Feel free to suggest coffee ideas in your reviews. I know that someone suggested that Kate and Rick bump into each other while buying coffees before. I don't remember who and I will look through all of the reviews to find it when I'm not so crazy hyped up on "Cuffed."<br>_

_Fun fact: I was originally going to wait until after "Cuffed" to even begin writing #6-10. Can't even imagine if I had actually stuck to that plan! We've got seventy left. What are you thinking now?  
><em>


	7. thirtyone through thirtyfive

**Title:** One Hundred Coffees  
><strong>Summary:<strong> The story of each and every one of those one hundred coffees that Kate owes Rick. Castle/Beckett.  
><strong>WarningsSpoilers:** _Cuffed_  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> All rights for the characters and the world go to their owners. I, in no way, believe – or would lead others to believe – that I own _Castle_.

**Author's Note:** I know that I left you all for a very long time. It has been eleven days since I updated. I had some stuff going on and was busy, but I bring you some happy little coffees that certainly brightened my day. I hope they do the same for you. If you spot any mistakes, let me know as they are all my own.

* * *

><p><strong>thirty-one to thirty-five<br>**

* * *

><p><strong><em>31:<em>**

Kate isn't a Scrooge or a Grinch by any means. She really isn't. People get confused because she typically works the holidays and doesn't do more than a phone call to her dad and sort of locks herself away if she isn't working, but that doesn't mean she hates the season. She loves it. She does. And she wants to prove it this year. Part of that is definitely proving to herself that she is nowhere near as broken as she thinks she is. So when there's twelve days until Christmas, the coffee cups get a new theme.

She arrives to work with a cup in her hand and a smile on her face. Rick is in his chair, cozily waiting for her arrival. She walks up behind him and tells him that he has full permission to sing. He looks confused so she starts instead.

"On the first day of Christmas, my true love-" and her voice hitches for just a moment because really she can't believe she didn't think about that part of the song before now and Rick's got this look in his eye like he's about to spill his heart out to her right here and now and, oh goodness, she forgets how to breathe "-gave to me a cup of Starbucks coffee."

Rick's still got that look. She's got a scared one. It's slight, but she knows he picks up on it. He picks up on everything. He wrote the book on Kate's subtle quirks. Literally, as we all know. Thankfully, he chooses to take the high and kind road and not mention the way she froze at the L-word. He takes the cup with a little "Thank you."

Kate also picks up on Rick's subtle quirks. The slowed pace to his words tells her that he means more than what he actually says. He holds eye contact in that way he does when he tries to convey a point as seriously as possible. His hand even lingers, which isn't so much subtle as a blaring sign that reads: Love me, Kate. She does. Though, now is not the time to say anything. She wonders when that time is. Day two? Day twelve? Coffee one-hundred-and-one? How long are they going to wait? Four years and they have loving glances and an army of people telling them to get together. You know, despite every childish hop and ridiculous comment, Rick is the most patient person that Kate knows. He doesn't pressure her. He doesn't even bat an eye about it all. He believes in their love story, their fate. He helps her believe too.

"You're welcome, Castle."

**_32:_**

Rick sings under his breath at their crime scene. "On the second day of Christmas, my true love gave to me two fresh bodies and a cup of Starbucks coffee." He grabs his cup from Kate to punctuate the end of the line.

Lanie chuckles at the two of them. They're cute. Esposito smiles at Lanie. She's cute. Ryan ignores them all. He's stressed. He wishes that all Jenny got him were some dead bodies and not the very live soon-to-be-related-to-him ones that will be judging him in a few days. Again, he compares his relationship to Castle and Beckett's. It's so easy for them to find a rhythm, to be perfect. Ryan and Jenny are pretty damn perfect, but they're not the well-oiled machine that the duo is. Ryan is also not as charming and witty as Rick. He doesn't win over everyone with a few well-spoken words. He has to smooth them over. Spend time with them. Alone. On Christmas. Oy vey.

Rick clears his throat. Ryan turns around sharply at the sound only to find Rick holding out the cup towards him.

"You look like you need this more than I do," Rick says. Ryan looks at the cup and then up to Kate who seems perfectly okay with Rick giving away the morning coffee. With that approval, Ryan takes the cup and drinks. It's purely psychosomatic, but he feels calmer after. He nods to show that he's better. Rick claps him on the back and wanders back over to Kate. Ryan forces himself to focus. As he glances at the victims, he wonders if fresh is the correct terminology.

At the same time, Esposito comments, "Dude, these are not fresh. They reek." Ryan chuckles. Maybe it's just a partner thing. Maybe.

**_33:_**

"Castle," grumbles Kate lowly. As cute as it is that he feels the need to sing every time she gives him the first coffee of the day, she wants the quiet to figure out what to do now. He, of course, ignores her.

To himself, he sings, "On the third day of Christmas, my true love gave to me three suspects, two fresh bodies, and a cup of Starbucks coffee."

Kate corrects, "You found one of the suspects, Castle."

"True, but we already have the two in the twelve days so you get the credit for all three."

Kate rolls her eyes. "Lucky me," she says sarcastically.

"You are lucky. You have an amazing partner, a challenging case, and the best party of the season to prepare for."

Kate almost rolls her eyes a second time. Rick's annual Christmas party is not until the day after Christmas this year. That being said, he is still requiring every person to say 'Merry Christmas' even though it will be after the special day. He's roped her into helping him decorate, but only after they close this case. He's so excited. If Kate's being honest, she is too. For both the decorating and the actual party. That does not stop her from messing with him through. She takes a slow sip of her own coffee in mock consideration.

She says, "You know, with the way this case is turning out, I might not be able to make it, Castle."

His face falls quickly but subtly. He obviously doesn't want to guilt her with his puppy dog sadness, which tells her just how much he must want her there. She actually starts to feel bad for a joke. A joke! But then, lowly, he starts, "On the third day of Christmas, my true love gave to me three broken hearts, a casket for my body, and a lie that won't stop me this time." He gives her a smug look. She narrows her eyes.

"For that, I'm taking back your coffee," she says. She reaches over to do so, but he pulls it closer to his body.

"No take-backs," he insists.

"Castle-"

"Take it and I promise you I will not stop singing," threatens Rick. Kate plucks the mug from his soft, warm hands. One blissful moment of silence follows before Rick bursts into the loudest and most obnoxious version of Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. Detectives and uniforms look up from their work to the newly blushing detective and ridiculous writer, who does not stop by the way. Somewhere before Santa appears in the song, Kate gives Rick back the coffee. However, the rest of the precinct seems to see that as the cue to join in. It's 'Piano Man' all over again, only more festive. It actually inspires Kate's next coffee.

**_34:_**

She writes the song on the cup. _On the fourth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me four strips of duct tape, three suspects, two fresh bodies, and a cup of Starbucks coffee._

She says, "For next time you sing." She also instructs Rick to turn the cup around. There's one thing he didn't see that doesn't fit into the song. It reads:

_Say "apples" all you want. I got myself earplugs._

**_35:_**

Rick looks confused at the start of the fifth day when Kate is nowhere to be seen despite having called him in about the killer. Instead, he finds Esposito in her chair, dangling her car keys. Rick starts to ask where Kate is, but Esposito cuts him off.

Esposito takes his songs very seriously. He sings low and strong as he stands from Kate's chair and offers out the keys to Rick. "On the fifth day of Christmas, your true love gave to you five minutes driving!"

Rick's jaw drops slightly.

Ryan jumps in to continue the rest of the song. "Four strips of duct tape, three suspects, two fresh bodies, and-"

Esposito joins Ryan to sing, "One big kiss in the precinct!"

The last part is improvised and Kate does not approve one bit. She clears her throat from behind them and offers Rick the actual end to the song. Meanwhile, Ryan and Esposito laugh and feed the birds and generally get so wrapped up in their bromance that they don't recognize the look that passes between Kate and Rick. It's not lewd, or even about the moment they're in currently; it's a look of possibility because, one day, they will be kissing on the street. And in the precinct. And anywhere else they possibly can. Before that, though, they have a killer to catch.

Rick heads towards the elevator, saying, "Five minutes, huh? You know, I'm sure it would be dangerous to switch drivers in route. I'll just drive the whole way."

Kate steps into the elevator first.

"Are you sure you can handle that? Five minutes is a long time for someone of your… expertise."

Rick does not find the crack as humorous as she does. He takes it as a challenge, moving closer to her. Towering over her. At least, it feels that way even with her heels.

"Oh, Kate, you have no idea about my expertise. You will be amazed by what I can do," he says.

The words slip out of her mouth before she thinks about them. "Prove it."

And Rick smirks. And Kate bites her lip. And the elevator doors close.

* * *

><p><em>Do you hate me for that ending?<em>

_Feel free to suggest coffee ideas in your reviews. Also, I'll put it to a vote. Should Kate do all twelve days of Christmas? (The decorating of the Castle abode is separate from that so don't let wanting to see that weigh in to your decision.)  
><em>

_We've got sixty-five left. What are you thinking now?  
><em>


	8. thirtysix through forty

**Title:** One Hundred Coffees  
><strong>Summary:<strong> The story of each and every one of those one hundred coffees that Kate owes Rick. Castle/Beckett.  
><strong>WarningsSpoilers:** _Cuffed_  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> All rights for the characters and the world go to their owners. I, in no way, believe – or would lead others to believe – that I own _Castle_.

**Author's Note:** I would like to remind you all that not every number centers on the actual coffee drinking. Some of them, as you know, are set-ups to the coffee. I had a reviewer comment on one number not having a coffee in it, and every number uses the coffee. Read again and you'll see. Here's the next chapter! If you spot any mistakes, let me know as they are all my own. This one's a long one.

* * *

><p><strong>thirty-six to forty<br>**

* * *

><p><strong><em>36:<em>**

Rick doesn't prove it. Their roles are too fine carved for one comment in an elevator to set them over that edge. But they're close, so painfully close to finally falling into the bliss that awaits them. Unluckily – or maybe it is lucky that is happens – Rick's phone rings with a very special request from Martha. Martha wants Kate to come to the loft once they're done with work for the day. Kate only. No Rick. For the detective, it's sort of nerve-racking. The coffees that Kate insists they stop and get are as much for her sudden anxiety as they are to slow down the process. Rick sees right through her. He settles back into the driver's seat and grins. Kate thinks that he grins because she doesn't say anything about him driving for more than five minutes. He shows his true colors though.

He says it with a sort of disbelief. "You're nervous. My mother has summoned you, and now the bad ass detective gives way to a scared little girl."

Kate denies, "Scared? Of Martha? Don't be ridiculous."

"I'm not being ridiculous. Mother can be terrifying. You know the last time that I got a message like that was the day before my wedding to Gina."

That does not bode well. Kate waits for Rick to say more, but he starts the car and heads off in the direction of their killer's home. Her mind fills with questions that he smugly is not answering. What did Martha do that day? What did Martha say? Is Kate going to walk into the intentions talk? It has been four years, and Kate's intentions with Rick should be pretty clear by this point. They're honorable. Eventually, she plans to marry Rick and have kids who probably spend a bit too much time playing with weapons and hating books simply because there are far too many of them around. And aren't fathers supposed to be the only ones who do intentions talks? Oh goodness.

Blocks go by in silence. Little questions that Martha could ask keep popping into her mind. Deep questions. Hurtful questions like can Kate really be a good mother when she has all of that baggage attached to the very word 'mom'? Kate wants to force them away. Needs to force them away. But, she also has to be prepared for what she's about to experience.

"What happened that day?" she asks as calmly as she can manage.

Rick thinks for a second. "I'm not exactly sure. Though, to this day, Gina cannot look my mother straight in the eye."

Kate gulps. Not loudly but it's there. She remembers the way that Martha had hugged her after the whole bank robber situation. Kate had thought it meant they were close. They have to be beyond threats about hurting Rick because Kate obviously saved his life on a regular basis. They _are_ beyond it. Yet, Martha wants to talk to Kate in the same way that she talked to Gina. This is the moment where they either get Martha's approval, or they don't. What will Kate do if she doesn't get it? What will she do if she does?

She doesn't want to think about it. For once, Kate hopes that this guy isn't their guy; she needs this workday to last a while. Say forever.

**_37:_**

It doesn't last forever. Obviously.

Kate drives back to the loft. She does so with tensed hands on the wheel and a lip between her teeth. She worries it to stop herself from doing the same. Rick watches her with interest from the passenger seat.

"You know, Mother likes to watch her shows about this time. We could stop and get something to eat before –"

Kate's turning the car around before Rick can even finish his sentence. She pulls into a diner, any one, a close one. It turns out to be a breakfast place. Kate likes breakfast. It's simple, nice. Breakfast is fluffy and welcoming, like Martha used to be. Like Martha still is. Martha loves Kate. Everyone loves Kate.

She chants it to herself on the walk in to the diner. It somehow shifts from everyone loving her to Rick loving her somewhere between the front door and their booth. By the time her butt is in the seat, Kate's wondering what he will do if Martha doesn't want them together. He can't defy his mother. He can harp on her as much as he wants, but he needs Martha just as much as he needs Alexis. Kate can't come between him and his mother. That's awful. That's absurd.

"Kate." She looks up at her name and meets Rick's eyes. They're amused but they're also understanding. He says, "You have nothing to worry about. We're not even…."

He trails, but she knows what he was going to say. They're not even together. Then why does it feel like they are? Why has she felt like they're dating for… years? Labels and actions or not, Rick and Kate are together. His family is hers. She spent Thanksgiving with them. She opens college acceptance letters. They're together.

Though, if labels don't matter, if never actually saying it or consummating it doesn't change that fact, why should one conversation with Martha? Nothing is different. She'll be fine. Kate will be just fine.

Their waiter appears. Rick orders them coffees and tells the waiter to make hers decaf. She narrows her eyes at him playfully, but says nothing. She forces herself to relax. To enjoy her short stack with her partner. To breathe. And then she pays before he gets the chance to. Rick isn't too happy about it, but she waves him off. Tells him it's faster this way. She's got to meet Martha anyway.

The drive to the loft is over nearly as quick as their meal. It's barely a passing thought despite being a ride of frantic anticipation. When they get there, Kate gets out of the car and tells Rick not to play with anything while she's gone. Then she goes into the building, to the elevator, up to his floor, and to the loft. She doesn't hesitate in knocking. Two shorts raps on wood are the only moments she takes to compose herself. She has this under control. She has nothing to worry about.

The door flies open revealing Martha who is as theatric and colorful as usual. She whisks Kate into the home in a flurry of words that Kate hardly even catches. The walk to the couch is a blur, but Kate does recognize a flash of red going up the stairs. Alexis is home. Kate brings herself back to the moment. This talk should be quick. She will even go first.

"Now, Martha, we've known each other for three years now and I think this conversation is long overdue," Kate begins.

Martha nods. "My thoughts exactly, dear."

Damn. Okay, Kate has to continue then. "I – Castle and I – we're not…" Not what? Sleeping together? Well, not by the slang terms, but they have done the actual literal meaning. Multiple times in fact. "That's to say that you shouldn't…" Care? Worry about who is spending time with her son? "I don't plan to…" Marry him, take his money, and run off to be rich and fabulous? Well, that's sort of a given. Shit. Kate deflates just as Martha begins to laugh.

The matriarch continues heartily, which only serves to make Kate feel ridiculous. She _is_ a bit ridiculous. Martha reaches out a hand to rest on Kate's knee gently.

Martha says, "We're not here to talk about your intentions with Richard." _Oh._ "We're here to discuss plans for the holidays."

Oh. Kate's brow furrows. Why would Martha want to speak to her alone about holiday plans? What is wrong with this family? Can't they do anything like a normal family?

"I-I'm sorry, Martha. I don't understand why I'm here then," Kate says.

Martha sighs haughtily. "_Because_ I haven't told Richard yet, but I won a contest. The grand prize is a trip for two to a spa in Europe. Airfare, hotel fee, meals, everything you could ever want is included, except of course the help, but I can rope them in my own." Kate still doesn't understand. Martha says, "I've already talked to Alexis, and this will be my Christmas present to her. However, the trip means that we have to be gone from the twenty-third through the twenty-seventh."

Now Kate understands. They're missing Christmas. Rick will not be happy. But he will understand. Eventually.

"That's great, Martha. Castle will be glad that you two are enjoying her last break before college. As far as not being with him, you can celebrate sooner, or later for that matter," Kate says.

Martha nods. "I plan on it. I also have another plan. Richard would be crushed if he had to spend Christmas alone. I propose you two spend the holidays together. Both Christmas Eve and the actual day. What do you say?"

Yes. No. No, no, but yes. "I was actually going to see my dad on Christmas for dinner," Kate says. Martha slumps at the words. There aren't many times when the woman actually looks her age. This is one of them. Kate amends her statement quickly. "But, you know, my dad does seem to get along with Castle. I can ask."

Martha perks up in an instant. It occurs to Kate that Martha's a professional actress. Her little guilt trip has probably been used on many people over the years. Kate can't bring herself to be angry about it though. It's Christmas with Castle. That's not exactly a punishment.

"That is all I want," Martha assures. Her eyes then cloud with a humor Kate knows very well. "Now, if you want to have the conversation you thought was going to happen…." Shit. What? No! Martha laughs. Kate chuckles in a breathless sort of relief. Okay. Good. They're not talking about – "I know your intentions are just fine. For once, it's not even my son that I'm worried about. He has big plans, Kate. I assure you."

Kate doesn't know what to say to that. What can she say to that? Oh, here's an idea. "How big exactly?" she asks.

Again, Martha laughs. "I'll let him tell you himself. For now, let's call him back in from pouting outside and break the news about the holidays."

"Now?"

"Yes, now. I don't want to put it off any longer. He'll be pleased, darling. He gets to spend it with you."

Kate tries to picture it. It will just be the two of them so maybe it will be quiet. He'll wake her up with pancakes shaped like Santa with a whipped cream beard, or something equally sickeningly sweet. No. Wait, they probably won't spend the night together before. They can't. Not this year at least. But next year…. And the year after that. And then after that. It won't always be the two of them. Eventually, Alexis will come back and Martha as well. Others kids too. She imagines the pitter-patter of tiny feet and the loud stomping of Rick's beforehand to get them out of bed. The light on everyone's faces as they see the mountains of presents. Rick will probably have some elaborate story planned to explain how Santa can be there even without a chimney. They can make a game out of it. Build giant gingerbread chimneys on the balcony to attract Santa's attention. And some birds. Feeding the birds. Kate chuckles to herself. Smiles.

"I can't wait."

**_38:_**

"On the sixth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me six stacks of papers, five minutes driving, four strips of duct tape, three suspects, two dead bodies, and a cup of Starbucks coffee!"

It has gotten to the point where the majority of their floor sings along. Kate wants to tell them all to stuff it, but Rick looks so pleased with himself every day. Even when all she gets him are some paperwork and his usual coffee order. It's the thought that counts, right?

**_39:_**

"Wrong! Oh, you are so wrong!" Rick screams across the break room. Ryan rolls his eyes from the couch. He should have known that Rick would have an opinion. The topic of the day is one of Ryan's nephews, Jeff, who was dumped for not being romantic enough. It's ridiculous, but they don't have a case anymore so they need something to do.

"I am right. Jeff deserved the break-up. I would've dumped him too if he told me he loved me in a Facebook message and called that romance," Ryan says.

Rick says, "If it was Jenny, you wouldn't care."

"Jenny is far too romantic to do that. She got me a gift for our two-week anniversary. Jenny is sweet," Ryan says.

Rick shakes his head. "Two weeks is not an anniversary. It doesn't even get a page in baby books. Besides, it's not about how big the action is." Ryan and Esposito burst into loud outcries. This coming from the guy who proposes in helicopters? Rick defends himself, "Hey, saying those three words for the first time is very different than proposing. You have to say it when you feel it and say it in the perfect way for your specific relationship. Those two met on Facebook. It's cute."

"Dude, it's Facebook," Esposito says. Rick rolls his eyes. He's not surprised that Esposito is taking Ryan's side. Partners tend to stick together. Speaking of which, Rick turns to Kate to get her opinion on the matter. But when he turns, she's frozen at the espresso machine. There's a far away look in her eye that he can't place. He starts to worry for a second that they've said something wrong. Then it hits him. Those three words. It's been months, so many months, but she has to remember. She can't not. He said it and she never - their eyes meet. For the briefest second, he sees regret in them. Then she shrugs.

She says, "Just because you feel them doesn't mean that it's the right time to say them." Well, if that doesn't give her away, what does? Rick wants to call her out on it. He has to, doesn't he? But she crosses to him and puts the cup of coffee in his hand. She drops onto the couch, questioning, "Who even goes on Facebook anymore?"

Rick lets it go. For now. They can talk about her lying to him another time. He forces a smile onto his face and argues, "You have a Facebook app on your phone."

"You have an app for Disneyland. That doesn't mean you use it."

"I'll use it right now!"

He does. The wait time for Tower of Terror is currently forty-five minutes.

**_40:_**

Ho ho ho gets a new meaning in the case that follows. A dead prostitute is found in the apartment of a mall Santa. It's one of those cases that put a smile on Rick's face and a song in his heart. As he swoops his coffee from Beckett, he sings, simply, "Seven slutty hookers."

She remarks, "There's eight in the waiting room, Castle."

"Ah, but one is dressed like an old-fashioned detective. They're not slutty, at least not the ones I spend time with." He gives her a smirk, waiting for her to comment.

Kate nods and then thinks it over for a moment. "Well, this is a time of year when dreams come true."

Rick narrows his eyes. He doesn't even fall for her teasing anymore. He says, "Very funny."

She says, "Not joking."

He leans forward with that same look on his face. "I once had a dream where you appeared in my office, dressed in nothing but a-"

"Castle!" Kate barks.

He smirks. "Nothing but a thin space suit. We were solving interplanetary murders."

Now Kate smirks. "That's what you're dreaming about Castle? No wonder you're blocked." He raises an eyebrow. "In writing!" He chuckles. "Not those type of scenes. Ugh, Castle!"

* * *

><p><em>Feel free to suggest coffee ideas in your reviews. And to follow me on Twitter - gleesanatomy.<br>_

_We've got five days of Christmas left and (separately/okay not fully separately but not in five days) sixty coffees left. What are you thinking now?  
><em>


	9. fortyone through fortyfive

**Title:** One Hundred Coffees  
><strong>Summary:<strong> The story of each and every one of those one hundred coffees that Kate owes Rick. Castle/Beckett.  
><strong>WarningsSpoilers:** _Cuffed_  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> All rights for the characters and the world go to their owners. I, in no way, believe – or would lead others to believe – that I own _Castle_.

**Author's Note:** Happy holidays, readers :) I'm not so sure about this chapter. Tell me what you guys think when you finish, okay?

* * *

><p><strong>forty-one to forty-five<br>**

* * *

><p><strong><em>41:<em>**

On the eighth day of Christmas, Kate gives to Rick eight scenes a'flowing…. She has somehow managed to turn into the Nikki Heat guru. While they are separated, they're both on Google Docs for the majority of the day. Rick writing and asking for her suggestions. Kate reading and making small corrections to grammar and spelling as he goes. Kate imagines them doing the same thing years from now with different characters and maybe even different sites, but still catching the other's slight errors and hearing them out, no matter how ridiculous they may be.

**_42:_**

Nine bets a'winning…. It's the twenty-second. Rick rakes in a bunch of money on silly things before tricking Kate into winning one herself. She takes everything he just got and a little present he had in his pocket for her. It's an ornament that says 'Our First Christmas' and has a pen stuck in the lock part of a pair of handcuffs. He thinks it's symbolic for the way he's gotten under her skin. She says it just means he's wedged himself somewhere he doesn't belong. Either way, it means they're stuck together and that's worth it. All three hundred dollars of it.

**_43:_**

Ten lanes a'jumping... Kate won't drive them to the airport. She can't. However, she hooks them up with a guy she knows who seems to have a magical way of just barely following the law and getting people to where they need to go the fastest. Kate hugs Martha and Alexis, wishes them a merry Christmas each, before getting to Rick. The whole encounter is so entirely domestic that Kate nearly – but she doesn't. She catches herself before doing anything stupid. She hands him his coffee and waves the three of them off. She also pretends not to notice when the driver almost instantly breaks a few laws of the road.

**_44:_**

Eleven squares of ginger…. Well, actually, they are more rectangles than squares, but that would not fit the song. She knocks on the door with a bag on her shoulder and a tray in her hands. On the silver tray is a small gingerbread chimney. Rick looks at it confusedly but she tells him to look inside. His coffee is there with a little Santa hat drawn on the lid. He chuckles, says, "Maybe Santa should try the Venti sized chimney next time."

"Or lay off of the whipped cream."

Rick gasps. "What kind of world do we live in where that's even an option?"

"One riddling with disease and obesity."

Rick looks up and down his body for a moment. "I don't know I'm in any danger. Do you?"

The moment reminds her of a conversation about implants. Kate simply flushes and lets the comment go. She can't really say anything without making the next two days unbearable for herself. Besides, it's Christmas Eve. They've got movies to watch and memories to swap. None of which will involve just how attractive Rick actually is.

Which is a lot.

**_45:_**

It's twelve fifty-eight in the morning, Christmas day. By this point, they've started decorating for the Christmas party on the twenty-sixth. Started and taken a break. Kate heads to the kitchen to replenish. Their quiet gift exchange floats in the back of her mind. She still can't get over Rick's present. His sweet, amazing present. She can't get over him, not that she is actively trying.

She opens the cabinet above the coffee machine. She scans the shelves, but can't find the coffee. It's normally on the bottom shelf. Where is it? She checks the cabinet next to it and the one next to that. Who moves coffee? It's cruel. She heads for the pantry next. It doesn't take long to find it, up on the top shelf there. She walks to the wall and strains to reach it. Her heels her off so she's shorter, just a bit too short to get it actually. She doesn't want to call for Rick. He would just gloat. She notices a short stool and pushes it to where she needs it. She grabs the bag of coffee and turns again. She misjudges the turn though. Starts to fall. Her hands fly into the air instinctively just as another pair of hands fly to her waist. Her heart's pounding and, yeah, it has to do with the fall, but it also has to do with the fact that she's now in an enclosed, relatively dark space with Rick. How many times has she imagined this very same position? _So_ many times.

She forces her eyes from Rick, and they go to the bag in her hand. Taped to the back of the bag is mistletoe. There's a fleeting thought in her mind about the way Martha had insisted that Rick and Kate stay at the loft for Christmas. It's fleeting because the moment Kate looks away from the sprig she sees that Rick's eyes are there as well. They're there and then they're on her and then she's on him.

The kiss is soft, a light brush of the lips that's so different from their first kiss that it's hard to compare the two. But Kate does. She hears herself from that night, the little moan in particular, and she remembers the rough way she pounced on him to make the most out of that moment. She wants to make the most out of this moment too. But she's already done too much. This kiss is too much. So she stands back to her full height. She takes a moment to make sure she can walk without falling into his arms and she steps down. That step still puts them close together, practically chest to chest. She glances up and meets his eyes again. She sees the love in them, the wonder, the questions. Her only answer is this:

"Twelve seconds kissing…. Merry Christmas, Castle."

* * *

><p><em>Feel free to suggest coffee ideas in your reviews.<br>_

_We've got fifty-five coffees left. What are you thinking now?  
><em>


	10. fortysix through fifty

**Title:** One Hundred Coffees  
><strong>Summary:<strong> The story of each and every one of those one hundred coffees that Kate owes Rick. Castle/Beckett.  
><strong>WarningsSpoilers:** _Cuffed_  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> All rights for the characters and the world go to their owners. I, in no way, believe – or would lead others to believe – that I own _Castle_.

**Author's Note:** I don't think you guys were huge fans of the last chapter. I wasn't either to be completely honest. I hope you like this one though.

* * *

><p><strong>forty-six to fifty<br>**

* * *

><p><em><strong>46:<strong>_

Kate goes with Rick to pick up Alexis and Martha from the airport. They get there early so they stop at a little cafe to get coffee and wait it out. The whole thing's quiet, awkward, like a morning after conversation, only without the sex and with hundreds of strangers all around them. Kate wants the awkwardness to go away. She wants her guilt to go away. So she says she's sorry. He says he's not. She grins at that; neither is she. His smile grows to match hers. He's got this hope on his face that she knows shouldn't be there. It's that hope they've tried to bury for so long. She brought it back. She – ugh. Kate adds, "But I shouldn't have kissed you. I'm not – we're not –" what does she say? She's been telling herself for months that she's ready. Has she been lying the whole time? Gosh, how long is this going to take? She doesn't want to spend the rest of her life without knowing what it's like to be his, to love him and be loved openly in return. But today isn't the rest of her life. It's another day that looks a hell of a lot like every one she's had for the past three years.

"Hey," he says as his hand finds hers. He places his on top, grounding her to the now and not every day that comes after. "Don't worry about it. What happens at the Christmas party decorating party, stays at the Christmas party decorating party." He offers this endearing, pleading, lop-sided smile.

It makes this worse. She wants to say that nothing between them is ever that simple. That this wasn't an act of Christmas magic, it was her finally giving in for a second and nearly burning all of their progress to hell. That she wants them more than she has ever wanted anything in her life. That she can't _not_ worry because what if she screws this up – screws _them_ up. She wants to say it all, but then the girls' flight number is called.

Rick gives her hand a small squeeze before rising from his chair, coffee in hand. She hesitates. This is another part of them. They don't talk about things. They have these silent conversations filled with heated stares or real conversations with double meanings so strong that she gets headaches. Heartaches. If they're ever going to have a relationship, Kate and Rick need to start talking about things. Straight on. No more sidestepping or ignoring the big things. They'll start soon. Tomorrow maybe. Today, they've got to get the girls home.

_**47:**_

She feels like a real life McDreamy. How ridiculous is it that she has now somehow become Meredith Grey, the borderline self-destructive, emotionally stilted, verbally restricted girl with mommy issues who can't seem to handle even the simplest of conversations? She has to communicate through coffee cups. It's pathetic. But, then again, it's also them. It's what makes Castle and Beckett who they are. Kate and Rick. Who are they? What are they? She needs labels and neat little boxes. So she draws a few boxes on the coffee cup. One says _stuck together_, the next says _working together_, the next says _friends_, then _partners_, then a big box with a question mark and the words _where we are now_. When Rick gets the cup, he puts a check in all of the boxes and adds a new one. That box reads: _where we will be._ _Hopefully._ It's cute. It's them. Well, one day.

_**48:**_

Rick is home with a fever. Kate brings him chicken soup in a coffee mug. He somehow ropes her into typing down the next chapter of Nikki Heat for him. She then spends the next hour telling him that his art imitating a very loosely based version of life idea is a bad one; Nikki most certainly should not heal Rook with sex. He tells her that it's probably for the best; she couldn't handle the sound of him narrating it, voice low and rough and rumbling down every cell in her body. Her jaw doesn't drop. It tightens. She takes a deep breath. Tells herself to calm down. She somehow winds up saying that she can handle more than he thinks. The next hour is spent focusing very sternly on the white page of the laptop screen and not the very red flush over her entire body. He pauses in his storytelling to ask if he's getting her sick; she looks a little... hot. She responds with a glare and a quick order for him to just finish already. He chuckles, says, "So I guess we can't always just cuddle, Beckett."

_**49:**_

Kate's still blushing when she gets to work the next morning. She has a cup in her hand for him and some clever comment that she couldn't think of the day before. All words die on her lips when she spots Rick a few feet away at her desk with some leggy brunette leaning towards him. The body language is obvious. This chick wants him. But he's Kate's. He knows that. She knows that. Everyone in the world knows that, except for apparently this chick. Kate steps closer and overhears the girl asking him if he wants to go get a coffee sometime, which is most definitely the final straw. Kate picks up the pace and walks around so that she's right behind Rick. She leans over his shoulder to put his coffee down on the desk. It's petty and she's sure that if Ryan and Esposito were there they would make some joke about her marking her territory, but she doesn't really give a damn. The only thing that matters is the frown on this bitch's face.

Kate pointedly says to her, "He already has one."

The woman huffs. Rick says, "Maybe next time." The woman smirks at Kate and stomps away. Rick turns with a delighted expression on his face. She ignores the amusement in his eyes to focus on his comment.

"Next time? What does that mean? 'The next time she nearly gets arrested and winds up in a precinct?' Castle, what are you thinking?"

He chuckles. "I'm thinking that we don't want her to claim police brutality because someone, meaning you, is a little... protective." She narrows her eyes at his word choice. He adds, "Besides, like you said, I've already got one, and if I remember correctly, another fifty-one to go. It'll be a while before anyone else has a chance to buy me coffee."

A while? "Try forever," Kate mumbles while taking her seat. She goes straight to work, but she can't help but notice that Rick stays smiling for hours after that.

_**50:**_

Rick doesn't make his own New Year's Eve party because of a new case. It's pretty high profile, and no one wants to put it off for a party. It won't look good for the precinct, so instead he counts in the new year by counting the seconds on Kate's computer screen on her desk. She's absent, but what else can he expect? That she'll be waiting to give him a kiss when the ball drops? Yeah, right. She's already had one kiss with him that shouldn't have happened this year. Though, technically, a kiss in eleven seconds would be a kiss that shouldn't have happened _next_ year. Wait, eleven! Rick's eyes go back to the screen and he finds himself whispering, "Ten... nine... eight... seven... six... five... four... three... two... on-"

"Happy New Year."

He swivels quickly, causing his knees to crash into Kate's legs. The act makes the hot fresh cup of coffee in her hand slosh and spill over onto the both of them. It burns and they both cry out. She thrusts the cup into his hand and tries to get some of the excess liquid off of her arms. Rick looks into the cup, spotting the remains of a Hershey's kiss melting inside. He looks up to say something about how brilliant she is, how perfect, but his words die as he takes her in. She's flustered, but he can see the disappointment. She was making a gesture and he ruined it. She kind of looks like she's about to pout. So he reaches into the cup and pulls what's left of the kiss out to pop into his mouth. He licks his lips after and stands, bringing them face to face. The proximity causes her breath to hitch and her hands to still. Her eyes drift down to lips before meeting his gaze. He chuckles a little breathlessly and he says, "Happy New Year, Kate." Then he walks away. Just like that. Her eyes trail him the entire way to the break room. It's nice. For once, she gets to follow him. And where he plans on taking them? It's worth every missed kiss and skipped party. And it always will be.

* * *

><p><em>Feel free to suggest coffee ideas in your reviews.<br>_

_We're halfway done! What are you thinking now?  
><em>


	11. fiftyone through fiftysix

**Title:** One Hundred Coffees  
><strong>Summary:<strong> The story of each and every one of those one hundred coffees that Kate owes Rick. Castle/Beckett.  
><strong>WarningsSpoilers:** _'Till Death Do Us Part_  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> All rights for the characters and the world go to their owners. I, in no way, believe – or would lead others to believe – that I own _Castle_.

**Author's Note:** Wasn't last night's episode (_'Till Death Do Us Part_) adorable? If you haven't seen it, I'd suggest turning around. Spoilers be below. Also spoilers for WriteRCastle's tweets, but those don't count. Not really. I liked the episode. We can discuss it through reviews if you want. But I'm sure you're actually only here to read the chapter so...

* * *

><p><strong>fifty-one to fifty-five<br>**

* * *

><p><em><strong>51:<strong>_

Kate slips away during one of the dances at the reception. Rick finds himself alone in the center of the floor, a bit confused but with the feel of her still in his arms. He can't stop smiling. He's honestly almost as alight as Ryan himself. It's funny. When he walked through the doors for the wedding, he felt it - that unconditional love for Kate just bubbling over. He wanted to turn around right there, whisper to her, "I love you, Kate," and then take her in his arms forever. He refrained. Barely. But they're not ready for that anyway. If he starts talking about love, then she'll start freaking out and they'll regress. He hates regressing back to how things used to be. They're so close now. So close that they talk as if they're already together. But they're not. And they won't be until Kate says those magic words to him that he's been waiting for. Three little words. Easy enough to say. Sound a bit like-

"Here you go."

No, that's not right. Rick turns towards Kate's voice and meets her teasing green eyes easily. He glances down to a styrofoam coffee cup, filled almost to the top. He slowly raises the cup, checking the sides for writing. His face falls when he finds the words. Again, not the three he was hoping for. She wrote: _Told you so._

He needs clarification. Kate tells him many things that turn out to be true, He asks, "About Ryan not needing to know?"

She shakes her head with a smile and points behind him. "About that." He turns to follow her finger. Off, against the bar and flirty, are Lanie and Esposito. Rick opens his mouth to say that it doesn't mean anything, but before he can get the words out, Esposito pulls Lanie in towards him and kisses her. It's romantic and cute, but it also sort of sucks.

"Fine," Rick grumbles.

"I'm sorry I didn't hear you. What'd you say, Castle?" Kate asks tauntingly.

"Fine. You won the bet. Officially."

Kate's smile gets even wider. If that's possible. "I know. I just had to hear you say it. So how long do I have with your murder board again?"

Rick says, "I'd tell you, but I know your aversion to numbers so..." And he shrugs and starts to stroll away. Her words stop him though.

"Bottom of the cup," she says. "I wrote it down, if you really want to know."

He stares at her, unsure what to do. He wants to know. But, at the same time, he just wants to know if it's anywhere near his number, or if it's more like... gosh, everyone in his life is a bad example. His mother's is probably higher than his. And Alexis better not even have a number at this point. He wants Kate to have _a_ number, just not... Quickly, Rick takes a sip from the cup before walking to the nearest trashcan and tossing the cup in without looking. He shakes his head as he actually does stroll away.

"Do not want to know."

_**52:**_

Rick walks back over to that trashcan about an hour later. There are a bunch of other things over it by this point - leftovers and giftwrapping and napkins and such. He can't see the cup anymore. He doesn't want to see the cup. He doesn't. He turns away from the can and finds Kate smirking at him.

"It's going to drive you crazy all night, isn't it?" she asks.

He nods. "I'm naturally inquisitive. It's a blessing and a curse."

Kate says, "Okay. I'll give you a choice. You can come dance with me, or you can find out my number."

He debates. Then he steps in close and holds out his hand for hers. She takes it and his other hand finds its way to her waist. They sway to the music. Calming, sweet, lovely music. She gets that look in her eyes that she only gets when she's with him. He gets a look in his eye that he only gets when he's thinking of her.

He says, "Ten. Hot or cold?" Kate gives him a look of utter disbelief. Really? He defends, "We're dancing. We're just playing a game while we do."

Kate shakes her head. Men. Everything has to be a game with them.

He says, "Seriously, though, hot or cold?"

If he's playing, so is she. "Dig the cup out of the trash and find out. Might want to hurry. You're getting colder every minute."

He mumbles, "I better not be."

"Or what?" she challenges.

"Or..." he glances around and his eyes spark just a bit. "Or I'll add coffees."

"You can't add coffees."

"I just did. Five more."

"Then I get five more days with your board."

"No!"

"Exactly."

He narrows his eyes. "One more coffee."

"No extra, but I get you one right now."

"You get one now, _and_ you promise to dance with me again."

She debates. And then nods. She's already freestyle rapped; there really isn't much else she can do to embarrass either of them tonight. She starts for the bar but stops to say, "If I see you so much as looking at that trashcan, Castle-"

"I won't."

And he doesn't.

At least not until after he gets his coffee.

_**53:**_

Kate and Rick hole themselves up in the break room three days later. Ryan's still off on his honeymoon, and Esposito is lonely. Lonely and whiny, all the time. It's annoying. Kate reprises her gift to herself from the holidays and puts earplugs in. Rick puts in his headphones. Together, they sit in their own little worlds, sipping coffee and pretending they don't hear Esposito ranting in the background.

_**54:**_

J.D., Alexis's young suitor, does not work out. Alexis isn't sure how to feel about it and calls Kate to talk about it. Rick is, of course, eavesdropping so Kate invites Alexis over to her apartment. Alexis sort of sits around stunned for a second before actually saying that she'll be right over. Two hours later, Alexis returns home with a cleared mind and a cup of coffee for Rick that says: _Girl talk is private. Either look away, or... _And then there's a drawing of scissors..._  
><em>

_**55:**_

Rick goes to Kate's apartment the next day. He only gets to the door for Kate herself comes walking out. She's in an outfit that he's seen before, but there's something different about it. Nothing about her is specific and the way that she wears her hat and scarf mask her hair to the point where he could have been looking at her from two years ago or beyond that even. He supposes that's the point. She's timeless. She has to be because, on this day, all of the time in the world is meaningless. Minutes, hours, months, years - thirteen years. She doesn't seem surprised to see him, or angry, or really much of anything. He feels guilty though. She's leaving and he picked a bad time.

He stutters, "I, um, Kate, I should have called. You're going out. I'll just-"

"Come with me?" And it is a question, a sincere, vulnerable, wallless sort of question. His answer's automatic.

"Lead the way."

She grins for the briefest of moments before starting back out of the complex. When they get out to her car, she gestures for him to get in. He hesitates. How far are they going? Is she sure about this? She gives a look. She's sure and a lot more comfortable than he seems to be. He gets in, buckles up, and tries his hardest not to stare at her. He only lasts about five minutes. After that, he can't look away. He wants to make this easier for her. Yet, he can't, not enough to take away all of the pain. Not enough to be enough.

"I'd say 'take a picture', but you actually would," says Kate. Her eyes don't leave the road.

He says, "Just taking it all in. Forgive me if this is the worst question in the world. Now, how are you?"

She tenses a bit at the question. Frowns. Admits, "Better. I talked to Burke yesterday and my dad this morning. Both seem pretty proud of me."

"I am too. I was worried. Irrationally so, it would seem."

Kate shakes her head, telling him, "They calmed me down. Alexis too." Rick quirks an eyebrow. Kate reaches for the cupholder and hands her phone out to him. Cautiously, he takes it and slides the bar across the screen to unlock it. The phone's already in the conversation between Alexis and Kate. Alexis's top most message is **Thanks again, Kate. You're the best :D** From there, it goes into a discussion about how jealous Rick would be to hear that, not to mention Martha who would probably turn her sudden feelings of anguish into a lesson for her students. Or a rant for Alexis. Most likely the latter. Rick laughs at that. He puts the phone back down and catches Kate's eye for a second. They're lighter. Good. He forces himself to look away. He recognizes the street they're on.

"Coffee?" he checks.

She nods. "And then flowers. Then I'm going to see my mom and you... can do whatever you want."

Is that an invitation? He's not sure. He asks, "Do you want me to come with you there too?"

"Only if you want to, Castle," she says. He gives her a look. Of course he wants to. He always wants to be with her. She amends her statement, "For a bit, but then..."

"Then I go back to my family and leave you alone with yours," he finishes. Again, she nods. It's a plan. He reaches over, placing his hand on top of hers briefly. "And if you want me to come back, just give me a call. I'm here, Kate. Always.

* * *

><p><em>Feel free to suggest coffee ideas in your reviews.<em>

_I tried to do the Johanna's death anniversary thing justice, but I don't think I got the emotions/interaction right. Any comments on that readers?  
><em>

_Forty-five to go! That's only nine chapters! Eep! Where have the coffees gone? And more importantly, what are you thinking now?  
><em>


	12. fiftysix through sixty

**Title:** One Hundred Coffees  
><strong>Summary:<strong> The story of each and every one of those one hundred coffees that Kate owes Rick. Castle/Beckett.  
><strong>WarningsSpoilers:** _Dial M for Mayor_  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> All rights for the characters and the world go to their owners. I, in no way, believe – or would lead others to believe – that I own _Castle_.

**Author's Note:** Another episode, another chapter, another five coffees. Hope you like them.

* * *

><p><strong>fifty-six to sixty<br>**

* * *

><p><em><strong>56:<strong>_

Tensions are high when Kate buys a coffee after the video viewing. Well, Kate's are. Rick's just quiet. Eerily quiet, like he's thinking a mile a minute about everything under the sun and can't stop. He glances up at her for a second when she stops the car at the drive-thru Starbucks. The look in his eyes... it's chilling, like he's seen too much and known too much. It's the same sort of look he gave her at the end of their first case back after the shooting. She almost wants to question it, ask what about this has him so shaken. It can't just be his friendship with the mayor. The way he's fighting her on this is like it's life or death, like his entire world will fall apart if this isn't handled properly. It's crazy, and she doesn't understand. She wants to ask to understand. But, instead, she hands him a cup and waits it out on the mostly silent ride back to the precinct. He doesn't start talking until they're in the elevator and it's only to say that the mayor can't be involved. Kate tunes him out and focuses. Finding this girl's killer - Laura's killer - is the most important thing. Nothing else matters.

_**57:**_

Rick calls her and tells her to meet up with him after the case. She figures paperwork can wait and heads to the loft. He doesn't talk about the case. Neither does she. They start off with him offering Chinese food. Obviously, he has an ulterior motive behind this. So they eat and they talk. Martha breezes in and steals an egg roll. Alexis swipes a carton of broccoli beef. It's calm, normal, in some alternate universe sort of way. And they're Kate and Rick, two laid-back people enjoying dinner. Except, they can't _just_ enjoy dinner. They've got to think. Got to put together the pieces in the few brief silences. Between a bite of steamed rice, Kate thinks about the conspiracy theory. Thinks of what it reminds her of. She wonders if it's the same ballpark. If whoever's pulling the strings here is the same one pulling the strings for her mother's murder and her shooting. She tries to chase the thought away, tries to forget. She's not obsessing over that again. Not thinking about it at all.

He cuts into her thoughts. "What are you thinking?" he asks.

She shrugs. "The case. The killer. Everything."

He gives her a look, an imploring one. "_Everything_ everything?" And she has to wonder if she's that obvious. Is there something that flashes across her face when she thinks about her mother?

"Yeah. But it's nothing. It's..." She shakes her head. It's not crazy. She's not hunting down firemen. She's just questioning. It's reasonable. "It's not crazy, right? I mean, it fits."

He gets this look, a brief glimpse of fear in his eyes, before he says, "It doesn't. The only things that fit here are my chopsticks in that rice container. Hand it over."

It's a bad deflection technique, but she lets it happen. She lets a lot happen that she wouldn't normally. She called him 'Rick.' The only other time she's ever done that is when kidding around, but she actually called him by his first name while working. She also held back. She let her own personal fears and feelings get in the way of a murder investigation. That can't happen. Not again.

"Castle," she begins, and she can tell from the way his eyebrows furrow that he senses the shift in her. She hates that he can read her so well. She hates that she reads him so well. She hates a lot of things, but only because she has to, not because she wants to. "This can't happen again."

He feigns innocence, tries to sidetrack her again. "What? We eat out of the same containers all the time. I don't have cooties; I promise."

She sighs shortly. "When we're working, all of the personal stuff can't get in the way. Not now and especially not if-" and she stops herself because that statement is headed for dangerous territory.

"If...?"

Oh goodness, what can she say now? 'Not if we start dating.' 'Not if we get married.' 'Not if we live happily ever after like I'm sure we will once we get all of the other bullshit out of the way.' Not any of those. She goes for, "If we want Gates to like you. And, between you and me, I think she does."

He hesitates before grinning smugly. He's putting on an act for her. He says, "Oh, she totally does. Women can't resist me."

Kate grins. He's kind of right. "Just for that, I'm taking the fortune cookies." She pulls both towards her, cracking them open and popping a small piece of each into her mouth before he can protest. He frowns.

"Can I at least have my fortune?"

She looks down at the slip of paper from the cookie that was closest to him. She grins and heads for the kitchen cabinets. He watches confusedly as she pulls down a mug that doubles as a chalkboard and writes the fortune down on it. As she starts his machine, he grins. He gets it now. She walks the cup back over to him and presents him with his fortune. It reads: _You are not always right._

He gives her a new look, one of pure disbelief. But it's true. He isn't.

_**58:**_

There's a simple murder a few days later. The best suspect winds up being this guy who no one has seen for a week, other than their victim of course who had a very unfortunate run-in with Marco. Now, Marco always went to see a movie with his mom every Sunday. He never missed one, especially after committing a crime since it might be their last one together. So Rick and Kate decide to check the movie to find the guy. They follow his mom into the theatre, sitting a few rows back so they have full visibility of all of the entrances and exits. Their phones are on silent and it's kind of like a date. Rick pays for the tickets, and Kate pays for the popcorn and coffee. It doesn't help that the movie is a total chick flick. It's sappy, and their all sorts of moments where the main characters do cute things that are eerily similar to what Rick and Kate do every day. As the movie goes on, Rick and Kate get closer and closer, whispering little comments and laughing at the same jokes. At one point, Kate turns to say something and finds Rick staring at her. They look at each other, hearing the music in the background, feel the moment approaching. It's not clear who starts the lean, but the lean is happening. They're so close that they can nearly taste this kiss, feel it. But then Rick spots the suspect sneaking down the aisle towards his mother. Rick hesitates, sighs, and points to the guy so Kate can see. She does and even sighs under her breath before getting up. They arrest the guy and head on back to the precinct where Esposito is waiting with a smirk.

Espo asks, "How was the movie? Or were you too busy to watch it?" Ryan makes kissing faces in the background just to clarify.

Kate says, "Definitely too busy." As the boys drop their jaws, she adds, "You know how it is. The music's playing, the lights are low, the _suspect is there_." She gives them her sobering glare. It doesn't work.

Ryan says, "But if the suspect wasn't there..." He wiggles his eyebrows. Kate doesn't even acknowledge him. She just walks into the interrogation room. Rick follows. Espo nods though.

"They'd totally be going at it. Do you see how close they've been?"

"But it's not making out in the movies close. It's maybe holding hands when you're walking in the same direction close," Ryan says.

Espo says, "I don't get them. Elementary school kids move faster than they do."

"True story."

_**59:**_

Gates is obviously having a bad day. And by obviously, I mean she's locked away in her office and pacing. She's groaning and sighing and looking at the ceiling as if asking for someone to just smite her right that second so that she doesn't have to do another damn thing. It's a really bad day. Meanwhile, Kate starts fixing some coffee in the break room. She hands one over to Rick who takes one look at the dark swimming pool of deliciousness, snatches up a few sugar packets, and heads for the Captain's office. He knocks twice and then presents it to her. And Gates smiles. She smiles. At Rick. It's mind-boggling and Espo actually pinches himself because he can't believe it just happened. Rick walks back in to the break room and only says one thing, "Irresistible." Kate rolls her eyes.

_**60:**_

"So you've just won the lottery, what's the first thing you do?"

Kate glances up at Rick, a mixture of disbelief and amusement on her face. She slides his coffee mug towards him while saying, "We've already talked about this, Castle."

"No, we said what you were going to do with the money. What's the first thing you actually do?" he asks.

She pauses. Hmm. "I don't know, Castle. I'd probably call you." His eyes light up. She expects him to say the same thing back at her.

"I'd call Gina." Her face falls. He adds quickly, "And tell her that I'm ignoring her latest deadline and running off on vacation for a week."

"Vacation, really? You have the money to go on a vacation whenever you want," Kate says.

He nods. "Ah, but with the lottery money, I'm taking all of you on vacation. Esposito, Lanie, Ryan, Jenny, Mother, Alexis, and you."

Okay, that's kind of sweet. "And where are we going in this hypothetical vacation?" Kate asks.

He shrugs. "Not that far yet. I'm thinking somewhere tropical, hot." He gives her one of his suggestive looks. "Maybe somewhere with a nude beach."

Kate only needs to say "Alexis-" before he covers his ears and sings a little song to himself.

"La la la, never mind. Bad idea. We're going skiing where there are many layers of clothing, so many that you can't tell anything from anything."

Kate laughs. She asks him, "Why are you thinking about this, Castle?"

"Because we've all got some vacation days coming up. I want to do something. I probably could have led with 'what is the one place you want to go more than anywhere' but-"

"Russia. I'd be more specific, but it's everywhere that I studied abroad. The culture and the language were magnificent. Alexis would probably like it too."

Rick grins. "I think that might be a bit too far fetched for what to do in two weeks. Next time?"

She nods. "Next time."

* * *

><p><em>Feel free to suggest coffee ideas in your reviews.<em>

__I'm sad to see that this is almost over (forty to go!). I'm trying to think of possible sequel ideas. I have a little list of different thoughts I've had, but I'd love to have any ideas from you guys on what I could do with a sequel or how to do it. Would you guys want something styled like this? Another one hundred _? Or…? So, folks, readers, lovelies, tell me - what are you thinking now?__


	13. sixtyone through sixtyfive

**Title:** One Hundred Coffees  
><strong>Summary:<strong> The story of each and every one of those one hundred coffees that Kate owes Rick. Castle/Beckett.  
><strong>WarningsSpoilers:** _The Embarrassment of Bitches_  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> All rights for the characters and the world go to their owners. I, in no way, believe – or would lead others to believe – that I own _Castle_.

**Author's Note:** Is anyone else ready to pee their pants in excitement for "The Blue Butterfly"? Just me? Okay, thanks.

* * *

><p><strong>sixty-one to sixty-five<br>**

* * *

><p><em><strong>61:<strong>_

It's a fact that ninety-nine percent of Kate's calls are about a dead body or a case. But the other one percent go a bit differently. His phone rings and he catches it as quickly as possible. The light sounds on the other end are soft groans of frustration. That accompanied with the contact picture have Rick feeling a bit... ambivalent. He's happy, but he's not happy about what it could mean. What if she butt dialed him? Oh gosh. Worst thing ever.

"Castle? You there?"

He sighs himself as he hears her voice. Her normal voice. All is well. No inappropriate activities with faceless men.

He answers, "Of course. What do you need?"

There's a lull in conversation. She's probably thinking how to phrase whatever it is she wants. It comes out as "What are you wearing?" which only makes Rick chuckle and raise his eyebrows comically.

"Why Detective Beckett-"

She's quick to stop him. "Castle! I meant to the party, not right now."

It's actually the same either way. "My normal look. I'm Rick Castle. I don't have to dress up." He pauses before asking, "What are you wearing?"

"If you don't help me, my workout clothes."

He doesn't really have an objection to that. The tight top and pants, held close to her skin by the faintest layer of sweat, that slightly messy braid that just hangs in the balance like his sanity upon seeing her so... thoroughly worked. His mind gets cloudy just thinking about it. Disoriented. Discombobulated. Distracted. Dis-

"Castle." Oh, right.

He says, "You should be fine with a sweater and some jeans. It's not that fancy, Kate."

"It's Martha's gala-"

"It's not a gala. Mother just calls it that because she's incapable of saying it in layman's terms. It's a small dinner for the major benefactors in her school and some special students that she wants to honor. It's not that big of a deal. And after you see what Mother's wearing, well, you'll be too blind to notice anything else."

Kate chuckles. "Fine. I'll be there in an hour."

"Remember, this is an event hosted by my mother. The amount of alcohol present could tranquilize a village," says Rick.

"I'll bring coffee and bagels."

"That would be appreciated. I'll see you then, Kate."

"See you then."

_**62:**_

Kate has a coffee waiting once they get back to the precinct during the Francisco case. The coffee sleeve reads: _No Hassle Castle_. He almost doesn't drink it in protest. But he doesn't, which sort of proves that the awful nickname is sort of true. Hmm.

_**63:**_

After her night with Royal, Kate comes to the precinct with their new mascot and a coffee for Rick. Royal takes off for Rick the moment the writer comes into view. Kate lets him go, smiling as the two boys reunite with big grins and slobbery kisses. She walks over slowly to allow them to have their moment. Kate stops beside Rick with his coffee outstretched. He looks up at her from his kneeling position and stands to take it. As he grabs the cup, he pitches forward slightly. It's not something most of the onlookers would catch. It could even look like he was regaining his footing from standing. But, they both recognize it for what it is. A semi-conscious thought to give her a little welcome as well. He almost kisses her on the cheek. Almost. He brings his cup to his lips quickly instead and rubs his thumb along Royal the way he did her hand last night. It's a poor substitute for what he wants to do, but it's okay. They can shower their dog with the affection they can't yet show each other.

_**64:**_

He still comes to her place at nine-thirty the night Royal leaves. He gives her his very own puppy dog look, and she lets him in. He deposits his coat on the way to the couch, dropping it on the hook he seems to have claimed as his. It's kind of funny that he has a hook now. A small plot of his own in her world. A footing to pull himself over the wall. A... a hook to hold her. Whatever. He has a normal spot for his coat because he comes to her apartment so often these days. He gets cozy in the spot he knows Royal must have chosen. It's obvious. Not by the fur that Kate didn't clean up, but by the fact that directly next to it is the warm spot where her body belongs. No man, person, or animal in its right mind would choose to be away from her. He glances up after he sits and he spots the squeaky toy. It makes him a bit sad. He reaches out nostalgically and Kate places a mug of coffee in his hand instead. She has another in her other hand.

She says, "Don't touch it, Castle. It'll only make it worse."

He nods with his eyes still on the small blue thing. He asks, "Do you think she's treating him right?"

"Yeah. And we can always watch him, every week on her reality show."

"You hate reality television," he points out with a grin. What he really means is: 'You don't like fiction based on reality and the gap that you can always feel between the two. You don't like trying to make sense of things that aren't black and white or normal. You hate diving into something when you know the outcome can never truly be a happily ever after type, even if only for a second.'

"Maybe I'm learning a new appreciation for it," she says.

"Admit it. You just miss Royal." Translation: 'You miss having someone look up to, adore you, and love you in a way that even I can't. You want that excitement and companionship that nothing can destroy. You want a family.'

She grins over the edge of her own mug, a sort of wistful look in her eye. "Yeah, Castle, I do."

"Me too, Kate. Me too."

_**65:**_

For that weekend vacation they talked about before, Rick takes everyone to the Wizarding World of Harry Potter. It's Alexis's second time, but no less magical than the opening weekend. Kate tries to downplay her excitement, but Rick can tell she loves the trip. Over coffee in the park, she asks why he chose to come there of all places. He told her, "I noticed the books in your apartment a while back. All seven. Hardcover. I also asked your dad if you might like going to the park. He told me that one of your favorite things to do as a kid was to travel to amusement parks and then see everyone else having the greatest time of their lives and look back at the pictures and recognize that you were too. Long story short, two hours later, I had tickets to the park, airplane tickets, and our hotel booked. And don't even think about trying to repay me for this. It's enough to see everyone having fun without a reality star or murder board in the picture."

She smiles. Says, "Espo did look pretty happy with that wand in his hand."

"But not as happy as Ryan and Jenny by the Hogwarts Express."

Kate laughs and her eyes meet his. They're as sincere as usual. She asks him, "Are you happy, Castle?"

He breaks eye contact for just a moment to glance at their friends a bit away. All of them are chatting, laughing, and arguing over whether or not people truly do have destinies. And it's funny because, even though the location and subjects may change, this ragtag clan seems to fit together. The cops, the diva, the daughter, the doctor, and the duo who pulls them all together. Rick can't imagine a better family, or a better world to live in. He meets her eye again and says, "More than ever.

* * *

><p><em>Feel free to suggest coffee ideas in your reviews. Harry Potter slipped its way into this one out of nowhere. I needed a last coffee and my brain just said WWoHP, which I have still yet to go to. It sort of makes me think of a future OFI moment. Just a bit. Gosh, I miss that story. Okay, focusing.<br>_

__Thirty-five to go... In happier news, Blue Butterfly promo! February! Other happy things! So, folks, what are you thinking?  
><em>_


	14. sixtysix through seventy

**Title:** One Hundred Coffees  
><strong>Summary:<strong> The story of each and every one of those one hundred coffees that Kate owes Rick. Castle/Beckett.  
><strong>WarningsSpoilers:** up to_ An Embarrassment of Bitches_  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> All rights for the characters and the world go to their owners. I, in no way, believe – or would lead others to believe – that I own _Castle_.

**Author's Note:** I thought of this before WriteRCastle's tweet today. Hopefully you like it. Even if you don't, you should tell me. I'm curious with a style like this what things work for you guys and what don't so please share.

* * *

><p><strong>sixty-six to seventy<br>**

* * *

><p><em><strong>66:<strong>_

Rick wakes up on Groundhog's Day in the breakroom. He wakes up to a lap full of paperwork from the night before and some dried ink on his hands. Kate walks in with a little grin on her face and gives him a cup of coffee. It has a badly drawn groundhog on the coffee sleeve but, if the cup is tilted the right way, it sort of looks like it has a shadow. He thanks her and she says, "Thank me after you finish your half of the paperwork."

"Yes, ma'am." He takes a hearty sip of the coffee to pump himself up and dives back in.

_**67:**_

Rick wakes up on the break room couch. He wipes at his face with a groggy, displaced feeling. He glances down at his lap, and there are papers. The same papers as before with the same blank spots too. And there's still dried ink on his hands. He glances up just in time to see Kate walk in with that same small grin on her face. She holds out the cup and he takes it apprehensively. Is he losing his mind? He's got to be losing his mind. He thanks her, and she responds with the same thing as before. He blinks a few times to clear away the lingering deja vu, sips the coffee, and gets back to work on those papers.

_**68:**_

It happens again. All of it. Only this time, Rick doesn't say, 'Thank you.' He says, "You want me to do the paperwork." And she nods. So he does. Or, he goes to but pauses. He looks through the glass part of the break room wall, squinting.

"Karpowski never comes in until noon," says Rick. He glances up to the clock, which is at eight-fifteen just as it has been the last three times he's woken up. He quickly takes the lid off of the coffee cup and looks inside. Nothing looks different. He sniffs it. Nothing smells different. He takes a very small sip. There is something there. Something he can't quite pinpoint. Still, he looks at Kate with a glare. "What have you done to me?"

Kate plays innocent. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Castle."

"It's like I'm living in _Groundhog's Day_," Rick says.

"Well, it is Groundhog's Day."

"Yeah, right, and you're drugging me through coffee to mess with me," Rick says. His eyes snap to meet hers and narrow considerably. He recognizes the taste. "Nyquil? Really, Kate?"

Kate grins again. He recognizes that smile too; it's not her 'here's coffee because I care about you' smile. It's a scheming one. She says, "Espo's idea. He thought it would be a good way to teach you the difference between fiction and reality."

"Cops drugging the innocent - you see, this is exactly why people hate the police," Rick tells her, "I could sue."

Kate shakes her head. "You actually can't. Don't you remember all of those forms you signed before? Your lifeless remains can't sue the city and all that."

"Then I'm cutting you off," Rick announces. Kate raises an eyebrow, obviously curious. He says, "I'm not talking to you, working with you, or even looking at you again until you make this right. I'm partners with Ryan now."

"Espo will never-"

"If I so as much as mentioned Kay Cappucchio to Lanie, Esposito would be in the dog house for another few months. He'll go for it. Well, I've got to go talk to my new partner, the kind-hearted one of the group."

With that, Rick leaves the break room. He passes Esposito on his way out. Espo looks from Rick to Kate and points after the retreating man. Espo says to Kate, "Your boy does know that Ryan thought of the rest of the prank, right?"

_**69:**_

The cup reads: _#69. I think you can entertain yourself with that number alone._

Rick drops the cup back off on her desk about an hour later. She curiously pulls the sleeve off, wondering why he returned it. Written where the sleeve would cover is a short little story that makes her face flush and the message: _Well, not exactly alone._

_**70:**_

Kate's old best friend, Maddy, drops in for a visit. Kate's busy so they settle for a quick coffee break while waiting for the autopsy to finish. It's a relaxing break from everything. Maddy fills Kate in on her life and then pesters some info out of the detective. When their time is up, Kate walks over to the counter and doesn't even get to open her mouth before Bobby asks, "Yours or Castle's?"

Hearing this, Maddy raises an eyebrow. "Castle's?" she repeats. "You pick up his coffee now, Becks? Where was that in the last twenty minutes?"

Kate tries to shush her friend. "It's nothing. I owe him one hundred coffees, and I'm paying off the debt."

"And exactly how many of those coffees were to wake up after a night of what I assume to be mind-blowing se-"

"None," Kate says swiftly with a look to silence Bobby as well. The teenager smugly goes about fixing Rick's drink, but his face says it all.

"Get on it, Becks. That guy loves you and you love him. What's stopping you?" Maddy asks. "Is it his kid?"

"No, Alexis is amazing."

"Then it's the whole fame thing."

"He's nowhere near as famous as he thinks he is."

"Then it's his mom."

"Martha's great."

"Then it's your mom."

Kate pauses. That's not really the issue. It's the starting point, but... Gosh, why does she feel like such a broken record when it comes to why she's not with Castle? How many times has she had this mental conversation? Yes, there are reasons why she isn't. But there are three reasons right there why she should be. Not to mention the many women who all seem to believe that they're together, or going to be, including the two most important ones in Rick's life and all of the ones they've bumped into over the last few years. If there are all of the reasons, and all of the feelings, then why hasn't it happened yet? What are they waiting for?

"Becks?" Maddy prompts.

Kate shakes her head. "Nothing." They're waiting for something that won't happen. No more waiting. When Bobby sets the coffee down, Kate picks it up, gives her friend a hug, and heads back to the precinct. She's got a guy to see and a lot to say.

* * *

><p><em>Feel free to suggest coffee ideas in your reviews.<br>_

__Thirty coffees to go. Blue Butterfly fast approaching. What are you thinking?  
><em>_


	15. seventyone through seventyfive

**Title:** One Hundred Coffees  
><strong>Summary:<strong> The story of each and every one of those one hundred coffees that Kate owes Rick. Castle/Beckett.  
><strong>WarningsSpoilers:** up to_ The Blue Butterfly_  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> All rights for the characters and the world go to their owners. I, in no way, believe – or would lead others to believe – that I own _Castle_.

**Author's Note:** _The Blue Butterfly_ was beautiful. I'm also really glad that I actually got reviews where people told me that they weren't a fan of part of last chapter. I want us to be able to have that honesty. So thank you to those who pointed out the things that didn't work for them. Keep in mind, future reviewers, that there's a difference between pointing out something you're not a fan of and leaving a flaming review. I doubt any of you would do that though. You're awesome :) and now on to the chapter.

* * *

><p><strong>seventy-one to seventy-five<br>**

* * *

><p><em><strong>71:<strong>_

When Kate gets to the loft, coffee in hand, she's met with a locked door and no response. She shouldn't feel so surprised. Yet, she is. Someone is always there when she arrives, ready with a problem or a smile or something to make Kate feel needed and cared for. The silence that greets her is unnerving. She tries to think of anything Rick might have said to explain the absence, but the only thing he's said since finding that stupid journal is about taking it home. Which is where she is now. At his home. But where is he?

"He went out," says a voice from behind her. Kate turns from the door and sees Martha, the older woman silently appraising her. Kate tries not to show her disappointment. She doesn't deserve to feel that way. She's made Rick wait over three years; she can wait for a few minutes.

"Do you have any idea when he'll be back?" Kate asks.

Martha gives a dramatic sigh. "You know Richard, he's not exactly the first to tell you where he's going. Well, tell me. I'm surprised he hasn't called you already. He's been raving about the journal of that private investigator. Says it's inspiring."

The word makes Kate's heart cool like the coffee cup in her hand. She's supposed to be his muse, not some dick from the forties with nice handwriting. He can't go around being inspired by every interesting person to pop into his life. That's not okay. It's... flighty and stupid and... depressing. To think of a new Rick Castle book about someone other than them feels wrong. Dirty. But she's blowing this out of proportion, right? She has to be. He's not leaving her. She hasn't missed her chance. She couldn't have.

"Okay," breathes Kate, and it's as much a response to Martha as it is a plea to get a hold of herself. "Just tell him to come by the precinct when he can. Oh, and, could you give him this for me?" She hands out the cold number seventy. Martha takes it without question. Kate starts to walk away and pauses. She adds, "And possibly another cup in a few hours? He'll probably pull an all-nighter reading it and, well, he'll need to be awake if he'll be any use tomorrow."

Once Martha nods, Kate forces herself to walk away. She gets to the elevator before she peeks over her shoulder. Again, Martha's watching her as if she's looking for an answer. When their eyes meet, Martha grins. Says, "It makes him think of you. That's why it's so inspiring."

_**72:**_

The next day, Rick fills Kate in on the brief times of Joe and Vera over coffee in the crown vic. He's reading it aloud, and something about the way the words sound coming from his mouth... it sends shivers down her spine.

"'There was spark to her that I couldn't get enough of. From the first look, I followed along, desperate for her. Thirstier than I'd ever been in my life. Not a feeling in the world compared to what she made me feel. I loved her, and I know that I will whether I'm with her or not.'"

Rick goes silent when he finishes the passage. Kate tries to think of something to say. Something that isn't how much she loves him. She doesn't want the first time she says it to be in this car, on the way to dig through an od bar. She wants it to be something special. They deserve to have something special.

Rick says, "For all his tough talk, Joe's just a softy. The more I read, the more I say that it's not a matter of if they will run away together but when."

Kate shrugs around a sip of her coffee, says, "Maybe it'll be sooner than you think." Rick gives her a look, as if he isn't sure exactly what she means. So much of what they say to each other is code. Code for simplicity, fear, preparation. One day, they won't need code. But, for today, when Rick cracks open the journal with a grin on his face, what he truly means is: I can't wait.

_**73:**_

Kate takes Rick home at the official end of the case. The murders have been solved, the necklace is a fake, and the lovers are free to do whatever their hearts desire.

"Come up," Rick says. Kate's got her hands on the steering wheel just to keep track of them and they tense. Tense and then ease up as he continues. "Mother will probably kill me if I talk about this case anymore. It's your duty as one of New York's finest to help save my life."

Kate asks, "And how am I supposed to do that?"

"Well, for starters, you come upstairs for coffee." He pauses. "Not euphemism coffee, actual steaming coffee followed by conversation and maybe preceded by a meal depending on how we're feeling."

"I don't know, Castle. I was going to head home, get some sleep." she says with a grin. She's messing with him. He probably knows it too. Still, he says,

"You just solved a cold case from 1947 and have a delicious hypothetical dinner waiting for you. What do you need sleep for?"

The question makes her think back to Joe and Vera, to the way they shrugged off the blue butterfly. All the riches in the world don't matter if they stand in the way of being with the person you love. As Kate's already decided, nothing is going to stand in the way of them anymore.

"Fine. But this counts for one of my coffees." She unclicks her seatbelt and opens her door.

Rick follows suit, commenting, "It's from my apartment." She shuts her door, heads towards the lobby. Doesn't even turn around when she responds to him.

"And I'll be the one making it."

"That's cheating. I should add more coffees," he says.

"I could just stop you know," she says. At those words, Rick does just that. He stops moving with a wounded lost look on his face. She looks back when she doesn't hear him following her.

He says, "That is the most hurtful thing you have ever said."

"Really?"

"Really."

"More hurtful than all of the times I've thrown you out?" she asks. He doesn't pause to consider it.

He assures her, "All of those are long forgotten, Kate. We're in the now. In the now, this is the worst thing that you've done. And hopefully, the worst you will do." Kate's face pales slightly. That's setting the bar pretty high. She's known for messing up. She can't help it. She just does. "Even if it isn't, we'll be fine. Remember that Joe and Vera started with a lie."

Her mind instantly insists that so did they. She chooses not to comment. This truly isn't the right time. Maybe after another coffee. And a not so hypothetical dinner. And a bit more time to prepare herself for his reaction.

_**74:**_

Kate wakes up with the word "No" on her tongue and a heavy weight in her heart. She jumps as she starts, and the motion shakes the couch in Rick's loft. Her heightened senses instantly take in everything. The mugs on the coffee table, the DVD menu on the TV, the warmth underneath her. She jerks yet again when it sinks in. She's sleeping on Rick. Again. On a couch. Again. But it's at his loft this time. The change of scenery actually doesn't make much of a difference, not when she's still partially in her dream. She can remember the bare outline of it. It's her and Rick, in an argument. The city's in danger, but they don't care. They can't care. Everything is out in the open. Her lies, his secrets, and they throw around the l-word without either truly noticing. It's just another aspect of their lives, and it's nowhere near strong enough to stop him from walking away. The last thing she remembers is screaming for him to stop, but that's not the only thing that she remembers that haunts her.

Kate pushes herself from the couch. She heads to the kitchen, aware of each small sound her feet make against the floor, each shaky breath she exhales, each second that she doesn't turn on the lights. How have they reached this point? Kate can make it safely through without flipping a switch, without needing guidance. She's comfortable here. Comfortable with him. She starts the coffee maker and rests her hip against the counter. The sturdiness of it calms her more than the walk. She focuses on that. This counter won't crumble because of something they say. It's strong. Strong like she thinks they should be. Like they are. Her dream is the worst case scenario. It's in a world where all hell breaks loose. That won't happen. Right?

Before she realizes it, Kate has two mugs in front of her. She picks up hers and sips from it. The first taste is euphoric, soothing in a way that nothing else can be. Well, not nothing else. Rick is -

"Kate?" Awake. She grips her cup tighter, brings her eyes to the floor. She's not wearing her heels. She feels a bit weaker without them. Barer. "Your nightmares are back," he says. It's not a question. Stating even what he's unsure about as a sentence is a habit he's picked up over the years.

"It was a different one actually. It's nice. A little variety keeps me on my toes," she says. She can see his responding frown even in the dark. He moves further into the kitchen but not straight to her. She's less stable at night. He knows this. He knows too much about her. That's one of the things the Rick in her dream used to cut her down to size. He called her out on everything, all of her quirks and flaws and the thousands of opportunities she had to come clean but didn't because she was too much of a coward. If the real Rick could hear, he would tell her that she isn't. That she's strong and selfless for trying to make sure that they are both ready for what's about to happen. That if she was a coward, she would have left years ago. But the real Rick can't hear. She won't let him.

"You know that you can tell me anything. I will never judge you," he says. She wishes that she believed him. She nods and hands his mug to him. He takes it and drinks. They spend the next hour in silence.

_**75:**_

Once Rick is asleep again, Kate gets herself together. She leaves and heads home to prepare for the day. On the way to the precinct, she stops at the coffee shop. Bobby pouts when she gets to the front of the line. He physically pouts.

"Come on," he says, "I thought that last one was it! I was so pumped and everything."

"'It?'" she repeats. He glances over his shoulder to one of his co-workers. The two share a meaningful look that Kate doesn't quite understand. She figures it's about her though. It seems to always be about her here.

"Nevermind. What number are we on?"

"Seventy-five, three-quarters of the way to freedom." It's a joke, but her teenaged friend doesn't find it that funny. He stalls his hands on the cash register, gives her a nervous sort of look. His co-worker mirrors him.

"Just because you finish doesn't mean you're going to stop coming here, right? I mean, you two are my favorite customers. Seeing you guys together brightens my entire day," Bobby admits.

Kate stutters, "We're not toge-"

"As partners, of course. Or best friends. Look, I make jokes, but I'm not making any assumptions about the two of you," he says. "I'll miss you guys when this is over, even if I do only get to see one of you most of the time and only about half of the time that you're off to the precinct."

Kate sighs. Is she disappointing all of the men in her life? Where's her father and the boys to add in? "I'm not going anywhere, Bobby, except for to work once you fix Rick's cup."

Bobby studies Kate for a minute longer, watching her eyes for any sign of a lie or an exaggeration. When he doesn't see one, he smiles and presses the buttons necessary to ring her up. She pays and, once she gets the cup, she goes to read what he's put on the sleeve. It reads: _#75 – you're in the final stretch; make it count._

She looks to him and says the same thing that Rick will say in a few minutes. "I plan to."

* * *

><p><em>I don't know about this chapter. Hm... <em>What are you thinking?<br>__


	16. seventysix through eighty

**Title:** One Hundred Coffees  
><strong>Summary:<strong> The story of each and every one of those one hundred coffees that Kate owes Rick. Castle/Beckett.  
><strong>WarningsSpoilers:** up to_ Pandora / Linchpin_  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> All rights for the characters and the world go to their owners. I, in no way, believe – or would lead others to believe – that I own _Castle_.

**Author's Note:** I've been having some technical difficulties so the wait was longer than I intended. It's fine because now both parts of the two-parter are together in one coffee chapter. Thank you to all of my loyal reviewers and rebloggers on Tumblr. Hope you enjoy :)

* * *

><p><strong>seventy-six to eighty<br>**

* * *

><p><strong><em>76:<em>**

They stop for coffee on the way to the chess park. Rick calls the cups in and Kate goes in to get them. She returns to the car to find him lost in thought. His gaze is off out the front window. When she gets back in, he doesn't look at her. He takes the cup and holds it a second. Says, "Thanks for coming, Kate. I was actually worried for a second I'd have to do this without you."

She grips her cup a little tighter as she asks, "Would you have done it?"

He looks down to his coffee and then up again. "Probably not. Our national security may mean a lot to me, but you're more important. Al-"

"We better get going, Castle. Don't want to miss him." More like, don't want to hear Rick. Not with the shadow of his original muse, Sophia Turner, looming over her. She can't hear their word and not wonder if he said it to someone else before her. If he said it to Sophia. She grimaces slightly at the thought.

Rick studies her a moment before nodding. He drinks from his cup already subdued after her interruption. She wants to ignore him, drive away without fixing her tiny, petty, ridiculous mistake, but she can't.

She says, "You're pretty important yourself." He smiles at that so she does too. Then she spots the time and takes off. They really don't want to miss their guy.

**_77:_**

After they nearly drown to death, Kate gets a call out to Lanie. The cups of coffee are supposed to warm them up and calm them. They don't. Not after falling like that off the edge, or after the shot, or after Rick... Gosh, she was so sure that he was gone. But he's not gone. He's still here, beside her, piecing together a puzzle that doesn't make enough sense. She doesn't understand how one thing could destroy their entire country. Until Sophia appears. With every chat, the woman gets a bit more in the way of their lives. Their love - Rick and Kate's - is their linchpin. Their one thing to hold them together. It keeps them coming back no matter who nearly dies in the extremely intense, seemingly never-ending cases. When Sophia orders them into the CIA car for yet another secret chat, Kate can't help thinking of how much she doesn't trust this woman. She writes it off as unreasonable jealousy. Then again, Kate's instincts are hardly ever wrong.

**_78:_**

She almost proposes a toast to those stellar (if not delayed) instincts after the case. Instead, her toast with Rick over coffee is "to saving a little girl's life." They clink their mugs and drink to a job well done. She has a few more doubts and questions in her mind that the coffee doesn't clear. His words do a pretty good job of it once he lowers his mug back to the table.

He meets her eyes and says, "From the start, there was a pull. Strong. Undeniable. Only that pull was too strong. It broke every bridge we tried to build, and eventually tore us apart. I cared about Sophia, but I didn't love her." _Not the way I love you._

"Castle-"

"I looked at her the way I did because she will forever mean something to me. Even if she wasn't out to destroy us all, I would never go back to that life." _I'll never leave you._

"And what if your dad was part of it?" _What if what you're really missing isn't me?_

"I doubt he'll bring me coffee in the morning." _I'll miss you just the same._

"It's four o' clock." _You're wrong, Castle._

"Or so you think," he says with a wiggle of his eyebrows. "Something tells me that somewhere it's five o' clock and there's a bar with our names on it. Any chance you want to go make a real toast? My treat."_ I'll convince you one day, Kate._

She gives a short nod. "Sure. Lead the way." _Just like you always do._

**_79:_**

Leads are actually Kate's specialty. She tracks them down. She finds them. She's good with leads and leading and generally getting shit done. Until it comes to Rick. Then she's more of a pushy follower. Especially when they go to the tracks that he mentioned at the start of the pandora case. He laps her. He wins. It's ridiculous. She's annoyed. Until she looks at Rick, looks at the smile on his face and the spark in his eyes. He's so happy he's won. She mocks him enough about his driving that he retaliates on the way back to her place by making jokes about how awful her driving must be if he beat her. When they get to her door, he makes a comment about her being nowhere near as fast as she looks. Never one to be outdone, Kate says in her favorite bedroom voice, "Oh, you'd be surprised how fast I can be, Castle."

He gulps almost imperceptibly. "I'm not easily surprised," he says.

She grins and unlocks the door she's leaning on. She twists the knob, opens it and outpop the boys through the doorway. Rick jumps back in shock as the group of detectives bursts into laughter.

"Surprise," says Kate. Rick narrows his eyes at her.

"Just for that, I'm revoking my invitation for dinner. The whole event is canceled. Mother and I will eat alone tonight," Rick tells the lot of them. Kate laughs some more.

Kate says, "Right, Castle. Let me just grab something. You and the boys can help yourself to whatever while I'm gone. Don't burn the place down."

All three of the guys are quiet until after Kate's gone. Once she's in her room with the door closed, the two boys in blue move in towards Rick.

Espo says, "If you repeat a word of this conversation, I'm going to have to kill you." Rick raises an eyebrow and turns to Ryan, who agrees with a nod of his head.

"This never happened," Ryan adds, "We talked about getting your revenge on Beckett. Nothing else. Got it?"

Rick glances between the two of them in confusion before nods as well. "Got it."

Ryan brings them over to the coffee maker. He turns it on and flips on the sink for good measure. More noise. They need more noise. They speak in their softest voices, almost at a whisper.

"You've got to keep trying," Espo says right off the back. When Rick continues to look confused, Espo groans. "With Beckett. It's like you backed off and are letting her do whatever. You're supposed to be trying to win our girl. What happened, man?"

"I-"

Ryan cuts Rick's explanation off. "You gave up. Did you give up because you're done, or because you thought she was? Because she's not. She's never going to be. But she will keep talking herself out of talking to you if you don't do something big to make her. Show her you're in this one hundred percent."

"I-"

"And do it before some other fed ex-girlfriend chick appears and screws it up," Espo says.

Rick waits a moment before asking, "Can I talk now?" The boys wave him on. He tells them, "I haven't given up. I've been letting her take time. Get ready." Ryan rolls his eyes. "I'm serious. I even have something planned. For tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" repeats Espo.

"Yes. And I think I heard the door so..." Rick grabs a mug and pours himself some coffee. Ryan and Esposito quickly lean casually against the counter. Kate walks in a few seconds later, dressed and ready to go. When she sees the three of them, she quirks an eyebrow, scans them for any sign of weakness. It's obvious she knows something is up. Rick sets the mug down before she can make a comment on it. He extends his hand to turn her around and start pushing her out of the door. Together, the boys manage to distract her. For the rest of the night, though, nothing can take Rick's mind off of what he plans to do.

_**80:**_

His plan involves roping Kate in to camping out on the patio of the loft. He sets up a futon with blankets and pillows and lowers it to the most laidback couch position. Kate arrives once he's done with two thermoses of coffee in her hands. She looks around for either of the other two women in Rick's life, but they're gone for the night. It's just Kate, Rick, and the stars.

Rick anxiously glances around him at the walls of the patio. There are glow in the dark stars on them that will glow once he flips off the lights. He waits until she's situated to flip the switch. The stars are in all different colors and there are words written in them. He watches for her reaction. She laughs. He doesn't know what to think about that. Why is she laughing? He glances to the wall, and his face plummets.

_YOU KATE._ It says, _YOU KATE._

Kate continues to laugh. "Channeling your inner caveman, Castle?"

He chuckles himself, albeit a bit bitterly. He whirls around to face her and adopts the over exaggerated grimace of a caveman. He drums his fists against his chest and stalks over to the futon. He flops down. "Me Rick, you Kate. You, woman, give man coffee."

Kate rolls her eyes but hands him the thermos anyway. Rick unscrews the lid and takes a sip. From the corner of his eye, he continues to watch the wall. After a few minutes of silence, Kate touches his shoulder to bring his attention to her.

"You okay?" she asks.

He takes another quick glance at the wall before nodding. "Fine. Sorry. I was thinking about a new scene." It's a lie. Kate knows it. She plays along, gives him an out.

"Do you need to go write it down?"

He shakes his head. "Let's just enjoy the night off."

Kate grins at that and leans back into the futon. He does the same. From there, they drink from the thermoses and laugh over memories, both shared and separate. Eventually, they wind up closer, tangled in the same blankets, heads on pillows a bit too close for people who aren't together. Kate falls asleep first. As she does, the rest of the stars finally light up.

_I LOVE._ They read: _I LOVE._

* * *

><p><em>It has almost been three months since I started this story, and I've had this stars part written since day two. I hope you all enjoyed it as much as I do. And enjoyed the rest of them too! But I won't know until you tell me. <em>So, what are you thinking?<br>__


	17. eightyone through eightyfive

**Title:** One Hundred Coffees  
><strong>Summary:<strong> The story of each and every one of those one hundred coffees that Kate owes Rick. Castle/Beckett.  
><strong>WarningsSpoilers:** up to_ Pandora / Linchpin_  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> All rights for the characters and the world go to their owners. I, in no way, believe – or would lead others to believe – that I own _Castle_.

**Author's Note:** I had a few coffees written, but I wasn't a huge fan so I hit a roadblock. Then I went on Tumblr during the PaleyFest madness and saw this thing about Kate that inspired me to jump back in. Here you have it. Another chapter.

* * *

><p><strong>eighty-one to eighty-five<br>**

* * *

><p><em><strong>81:<strong>_

Rick is sort of glum the day after the stars incident. He can't help it. His well thought-out plan failed. Kate notices and says that she'll be back after she's changed to cheer him up from whatever scene or dream put him in such a funk. He lets her go mostly because he needs a new plan. Something smaller. Simpler. He goes in the kitchen and looks around. He opens the pantry, the cabinets, the fridge, and finally the freezer. There, he gets his next grand idea.

When Kate returns two hours later with a coffee for him, he whips out a cup for her. He trades and takes a sip of his cup to calm his nerves. She curiously takes a sip from hers through the straw. As the liquid hits her tongue, her eyes light up and the smallest of moans escapes her. She exclaims, "I love strawberry milkshakes!" He grins.

"I know. I also know that the best way to talk to you is to subdue you, just a bit. So if you would please take a seat," he motions towards the couch, "I have something I want to say."

She gives him a questioning look as she moves towards the couch. "Is everything okay?"

He nods and takes a deep breath before placing his coffee down. He takes the seat next to her and says, "You're a cop, Kate." She chuckles a bit at that, a retort about stating the obvious on the tip of her tongue. He doesn't let her say it. He has to get this out in one swoop, or he'll lose his nerve. "And you told me a long time ago that cops don't get to decide how the story ends. I'm a writer. I decide. I do get to decide, and my decision is that you're not walking away anymore. You don't get to leave. You have to stay, with me, no matter what. No matter who chases down the suspect, or who drinks the last of the milk, you're with me, Kate. And I'm with you. That's how this story ends. With us together."

He looks at her, really looks at her when he's done. Her grip on the shake has loosened, enough where he has a fleeting moment of fear for his flooring. But then he sees the look in her eye, the way that out of a cloud of anxiety and surprise is this glimmer of hope and relief, the way that there's another emotion that he knows is love just waiting to be named. To be accepted. He will gladly take it so long as she takes his first.

Her voice is quivering a bit when she asks, "Are we at the end of the story already?"

"The end of this one. We've got a lifetime of stories to write, Kate. Let's give this one a happy ending and dive into the next."

"And if that one has a bad ending?"

It won't. He wants to tell her that and convince her, but he knows that he can't. Maybe in another year she'll know for sure. She'll understand. For now, though, he tells her, "Then we start another, and another. I'm in this, Kate, and I will be, always."

She looks into his eyes and grabs his hand the way she did during Martha's place. She nods, whispering, "Always."

_**82:**_

Before any plans can be made for where to go next, a call breaks in. A new case. It's a tough one that distracts them from everything. Or, it should distract them. It doesn't. Not fully. Because when Kate looks up from the body at the crime scene, she catches Rick's eye. He smiles. She smiles. Lanie talks. They both mug it and keep going.

Until they're in the car to head to the vic's house. The car stops at a red light. Rick makes a mention about being hungry. He asks if she is. She is. He grins. The light turns green.

They get in the elevator in the precinct. He's feeling Italian. She says she could do for some spaghetti and meatballs, or even a nice slice of pizza. It stops.

They're at the board. Spaghetti.

In the break room. Wine?

Back at the board. A glass or two.

On the way to the morgue. Dessert? Cake. A shake. At the restaurant?

Over the body. The same place she got the last one. His face brightens. "Inviting yourself over on the first date? You are fast."

"I didn't say anything was going to happen."

"Have you tried my strawberry shakes, Kate? Something is going to happen."

Kate smirks. It's not a denial. It makes him grin all the more.

They stop to get coffee from Bobby a little later in the day. When Kate orders, she says, "Number eighty-two. Finally." Bobby starts to write on the cup only to recognize what she said. He looks up in a flash, his questions and excitement clear on his face. She nods and he cheers from behind the counter. She doesn't make out much from his rambling except for the words "free of charge" and "when's the wedding?" She chooses to ignore the second part, take their cups, and go. She also chooses to ignore Rick's answer of "I'm thinking June."

She'd much prefer a fall wedding.

_**83:**_

There's a break in the case that keeps them at the precinct all night. It's disappointing. It makes Kate antsy. Very antsy. She winds up snapping at Ryan at one point. It's not pretty, so she heads outside to blow off some steam. Her back is to the wall and her fingers are a little chilly by the time Rick joins her.

"I really wanted to get out of here tonight," she admits, "Just one night."

He shrugs. "What's more fitting than dinner at the precinct?" She can think of other locations instantly, but the words die on her tongue when his car pulls up. The passenger window rolls down and Martha sticks her head through.

"This was a pain to get, kiddo. It better be worth it," Martha announces as she passes a bag through the window. Rick takes it and the bottle of wine that follows.

"It will be. Thank you, Mother. You too, Alexis!"

His daughter gives him a big smile and a thumbs up from the driver's seat. He takes that little bit of encouragement and motions for Kate to follow him. He sticks the bottle under his jacket on the walk up. The elevator ride is quiet, but not uncomfortable. Kate spends it resisting the urge to fix her hair or her outfit. This is Rick, she reminds herself. It's Rick and it's dinner in the break room. It's not... No primping.

He doesn't take her to the break room. He leads her to the interrogation room where they had their first interrogation. He sits in his chair and lightly pushes her into hers on the opposite side of the table. He begins taking out the foil-covered containers, placing them between the two candles on the table. The two lit candles. She glances behind her at the mirror.

"Don't even bother," Rick says, "I locked the door with a key that is safely tucked in my pocket. The only other copy is with Gates, and she promises not to unlock it unless the building starts caving in. Relax, Kate. It's just you, me, and a slightly personalized twist on the night we started planning."

She's still not convinced, still unsure about this whole thing. Aren't there supposed to be fireworks when their relationship begins? Something in the world is supposed to shift. It can't just be this easy, this simple. Can it? She almost voices just that but the sight before her stops her.

There's Rick, this amazing guy who's changed so much of his life to be with her, and he's pouring wine into matching coffee mugs just to have this special night with her. He's gotten half of their main circle in on it. For her. All of it is for her. She doesn't deserve him. Or maybe she does. After everything she's gone through, she should get some happiness too, even if it has to be in the middle of a case in an interrogation room.

"Hey, I'll even tell you the story of how I wound up naked on a police horse."

Needless to say, it's the best first date of her life. And when she kisses him at the end, she can taste the coffee on his lips and the promise in the air. Cliche, but true. So true.

_**84:**_

Kate recreates the cup from number forty-seven. All of the old boxes are there: _Stuck together. Working together. Friends. Partners. Where we are now. Where we will be._ And she puts a check in the 'will be' box because that's something she wants to celebrate. They can check it now.

_**85:**_

On the fourth day after they get together, the two are sitting at Kate's desk. He's got his butt against the top drawer and he's facing the board. She's in the chair, playing with one of the elephants since there isn't much to do in the case but wait on the next piece of the puzzle to fall into place. Speaking of puzzles, Ryan's staring at the two of them like they are one, like something is off and he can't figure out what. It would probably help if they told him that they were dating, but they're not doing that. People will catch on eventually. Besides, Rick thinks it's the ultimate prank to pretend like nothing has changed. It's going pretty well if he says so himself.

Pretty well up until the moment Gates walks by, drops off the latest paper they were waiting on, and says, "Oh, and congratulations, you two." She keeps on walking after it, doesn't even look back to see the slack-jawed look on Ryan's face or the way Espo nearly falls out of his chair.

"'Congratulations?'" the boys repeat in unison. They scramble forward towards Rick and Kate.

"What did she mean 'congratulations'?" Espo asks.

Rick doesn't miss a beat. "Well, the word partially derives from the word gratus meaning-"

"Castle," Ryan grumbles lowly.

Rick and Kate look at each other. Smile. Look back. Then the chaos ensues. The boys talk over each other, asking when and where and talking about the pool - _oh, man, I can't believe I didn't see this coming_ - and the new couple just laughs it off. But then -

"Hold up." And they all do. Slowly, the group turns towards the elevator where a very livid Lanie Parish stands. "You mean to tell me that you two have been knocking boots for four days and I'm just finding out now?"

Rick gulps. "We, uh, didn't want to make a big deal-"

"A big deal? I've been waiting since the first time I met you for this to happen. I'm Kate's best friend. You know, I shouldn't even tell you what I found on the body, since you have no respect for me or my-"

"Lanie," and it's Kate who breaks through the Southern girl's rant, "If it's about the case, you can't just withhold information." Lanie gives her a look. "I get it. I should have told you-"

Espo pipes in. "Told her? We work with you." Lanie gives him a look. "In the same area. You know what I mean."

Lanie huffs, dropping off the pictures in Kate's hands haughtily. She turns, walking away and practically yelling, "When you get engaged, I better be the first to know. Babies too."

* * *

><p><em>So they're finally together!<em> Did you like it? Did you not? As always, I would love to hear what worked andor didn't work for you in this chapter. Will you tell me? What are you thinking?  
><em>_


	18. eightysix through ninety

**Title:** One Hundred Coffees  
><strong>Summary:<strong> The story of each and every one of those one hundred coffees that Kate owes Rick. Castle/Beckett.  
><strong>WarningsSpoilers:** up to_ (the dancing episode)_  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> All rights for the characters and the world go to their owners. I, in no way, believe – or would lead others to believe – that I own _Castle_.

**Author's Note:** Another episode, another chapter. Enjoy.

* * *

><p><strong>eighty-six to ninety<br>**

* * *

><p><em><strong>86:<strong>_

It takes Rick a while to get over the whole Odette is not really Odette thing. And, by 'a while', well, Rick spends his next theory building moment talking about it. The twins theory is out, but he can't just let it go. It's just Rick and Kate around when he asks, "Can you imagine it -someone else living your life?"

Kate doesn't even look up when she says, "You seem to be able to." She's referring to the books. But that doesn't exactly fit the bill.

"That's writing, Kate. This is pod person status. It's creepy."

Kate does look up then. "Don't worry, Castle. I'd know it wasn't you."

He grins, but then he wonders. "How?" It's a serious question, but he can't help joking a bit. "My sparkling personality? My wit? My sweet, passionate-"

"Obviously, your modesty, Rick," she responds. He chuckles. She flips a page on Barbara, then tells him, "It's your eyes. I don't know - there's something in them that's very you. I'd be able to see if it wasn't there. I'd know."

He knows what that something is. He bets she does too, even if she won't say it. He won't say it either. Not again. Not yet at least. So, instead of saying what he wants to, he says, "Thanks, Kate. You want to get a coffee while the boys are out?"

Kate laughs at the phrasing. "Oh, is it date night already?" she jokes. She closes the file and stands, the action putting her face to face with him. She gives him her own special look, and it's not just love swimming around in there.

He says, "We won't get anywhere if you keep looking at me like that."

She leans in, almost like she's about to kiss him, before she turns her head and steps aside. "I am pretty thirsty." She walks off to the break room. He follows, mumbling something about her being just as much of a tease now as she was before.

_**87:**_

"Panties on the head, Castle?"

There's a line between teasing, joking, and thoughtless statements. Rick is closest to the third option. He really needs to try shutting up. "I said, pretend I didn't say that."

Kate gives him this probing sort of glance. "Maybe we should talk about your number."

His face pales. "Oh, no, Kate, focus."

"You're the one telling all of these stories. First, you want to go to the strip club-"

He pipes in, "To interrogate-"

She continues, "To watch women dance around in their underwear."

Rick is silent a moment. He says, "Ryan's married. It's worse that he goes. I would be keeping those two under control."

Kate shakes her head. At the same time, she wields her mug like a finger pointed at his chest. He feels powerless under his weak excuse. Then again, he's normally powerless against Kate.

"No, you would be fighting off the girls who would be trying to flirt with you."

"Try being the operative word. I sense a little bit of jealousy here, Kate," comments Rick.

Kate's mug comes closer to his chest. She assures him, "It's not jealousy. You're not going anywhere."

Rick stutters, "Well, if you think that, why can't I go?"

"Do you want me to go to a strip club?" Kate asks. Rick's mind flashes to Kate dressed in something silky and black, something that leaves just enough to the imagination for the writer in him to go wild, not that it wasn't already. He can practically feel the fabric - and then he does feel the mug hit him.

He starts, jostling his own coffee on the counter. Despite his mental vacation, he answers correctly, "No. Of course not."

Kate just shakes her head again and walks away. He considers going after her, but changes his mind. He should let her cool. Let the coffee cool too just in case she wants to hit him again with her cup. Besides, he has a new little scene forming in his mind that's just dying to be explored.

_**88:**_

Later, after the big secret is starting to unfurl, Rick and Kate have a celebratory night coffee. He spends the majority of it with this proud smile on his face. Kate looks amused, but he sees that she's proud too. Of course she is. Who wouldn't be? Alexis is a child to be proud of. She's hard-working, intuitive, creative, and she might have just helped them crack this case. It's amazing.

Rick grins over his mug, mumbling, "My little girl - the medical examiner." He sighs happily, leaning back into the cushion of Kate's couch. She leans into him, her head coming to rest on his shoulder. He wraps his arm around her and plants a kiss to her forehead. He adds, "To think I almost tried to stop her from doing this."

"Almost?"

He nudges her with his shoulder. She looks up at him, and he's already looking down at her. "Honestly, though, thanks for stopping me, Kate."

_**89:**_

A few days later, Lanie gets a call. Kate says that it wasn't exactly on the list Lanie created, but she thought she would share. Lanie's squeals - so loud they can be heard through the phone - are what wake Rick up. He rolls over in his bed and heads towards the doorway. Kate's in his office, sitting in his big chair, wearing one of his shirts and an old pair of sweats, a cup of coffee in her hand. It's an unusual sight, yet it feels like it's right. He moves in closer and pulls the mug from her hands. She gives him a weak sort of glare and tells Lanie that she'll call back. Lanie calls out from the phone, "Is Castle there? Good morning, Lover Boy!"

While Kate flushes, Rick plucks the phone from her hand as well. He easily says, "Good morning, Lanie. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to spend a little time with my girlfriend while we miraculously don't have a case. Bye, Lanie."

He can hear the smile in her voice when she replies, "Bye, Castle." He clicks the call off and properly greets Kate with a kiss. She pulls back.

"Wake up first. Kiss me later," she says. He raises an eyebrow but takes a sip from the cup anyway. As he does so, something solid comes sliding into his mouth. He spits it out back into the cup. His curious gaze meets her impassive one. Is this a joke? He reaches inside of the cup, much like a child digging for the prize in the cereal box. The prize is a key. He looks to Kate in shock.

"Now, this doesn't mean you get to start packing me bags or cooking me dinner whenever I leave you to chase down a suspect. I just want you to have it – just in case."

Rick wiggles his eyebrows. "Just in case you're lonely and need a little... company?"

She leans closer to him, whispers, "We both know you'll get lonely before I do. And after, you can try my new espresso machine. If you want to."

Rick does. Come to think of it, so does Kate.

_**90:**_

It's amazing. Both the coffee and the sex.

* * *

><p><em>Just to clarify, Kate just gave Rick a key to her apartment. She already has one to his (though, I don't remember if I mentioned that already or not).<br>_

_This chapter was a little more lighthearted than I had thought it would be. I think it's just compensating for what next chapter is going to do. Y'all know what happens next episode. Speaking of that, are you ready? Also, we just hit ninety. There's only ten left! _What are you thinking now?  
><em>_


	19. ninetyone through ninetyfive

**Title:** One Hundred Coffees  
><strong>Summary:<strong> The story of each and every one of those one hundred coffees that Kate owes Rick. Castle/Beckett.  
><strong>WarningsSpoilers:** up to_ 47 Seconds_  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> All rights for the characters and the world go to their owners. I, in no way, believe – or would lead others to believe – that I own _Castle_.

**Author's Note:** The fact that this is the first half of the last ten coffees makes me almost as emotionally distraught as the episode. Obviously, there are spoilers for "47 Seconds". Hope you guys are fine after it - and after this. Enjoy.

* * *

><p><strong>ninety-one to ninety-five<br>**

* * *

><p><em><strong>91:<strong>_

The last time there was a bomb in New York, Rick and Kate almost died. But this time, they're not standing in front of the bomb with clasped hands and a faint hope that Rick will somehow save the day. This time, they're not locked away in a freezer, tongues too numb to say what they really want to say. This time, they're fine. But fine only goes so far. It mostly gets them to this point, to where Kate says to him, "It makes you think of other things you don't want to put off anymore."

For Kate, she doesn't want to put off their future, their chance at happiness, telling him she loves him, being with him wholly and completely, letting go.

And Rick doesn't want to put off never letting go, or using his fear to force them forward, stopping the Dragon, protecting his family, telling her he loves her, and holding her in his arms until the day they do die.

It's a long list for the both of them, and that's not even everything. But that's about as much as either of them can rasp in the brief second between when Kate gives him the cup of coffee asking what he wants and when Rick brings her to him, whispering the word "You."

_**92:**_

While the case brings Rick and Kate closer, it almost seems to do the opposite for Rick and Alexis. It drives them physically further apart. He can't help it. As proud as he is of his daughter, he's also worried. Worried that her being in this world will only hurt her. Worried that, one day, she'll be the one on the slab of metal and Lanie will have that same wounded look that Alexis does now. Worried that life as they know it is changing, ending, done.

Maybe that's the writer in him that thinks that. But, the writer in him also understands her pain. Cataloging personal effects is tough. It's the tiny details that make the characters - the victims - real. So he brings Alexis home for something a little less realistic and a bit more relaxing. They watch movies and laugh and eventually Kate appears bearing coffee and a smile. They welcome her in to their night without pause, without thought. This is where she belongs, where they all do.

Rick goes to the bathroom at one point, and Kate reiterates that she is there for Alexis, whenever she wants, whatever she wants, always. The teenager nods with this watery eyed sort of smile. It worries Kate until she realizes that Alexis isn't about to cry. She's about to hug her and tell her, "You're the best, Kate. Not just for my dad, but for me too. I don't think I could do this if you weren't here to help me."

Kate's own smile turns watery. She says, "You could. You're an amazing girl, Alexis. You don't give yourself enough credit."

"Neither do you. You're so modest and even bashful sometimes. Can't you see how great you are and how much everyone loves you?"

Kate thinks about the family they've created at the Twelfth. Her boys, who alternate between being her brothers and the kids she has to control, and Lanie, her sister and best friend, and even Gates, the no nonsense mother who can't stop hazing her future stepson. It's weird to think of Gates as a mother, as someone other than this awful figure filling in for one of the greatest men that Kate has ever known. Despite everything, Roy has always meant a lot to Kate. And his only regret was that he couldn't help Kate sooner, wouldn't bring down the conspiracy that ruled their lives, shouldn't step in and force her to admit what she was trying to avoid. What she's done avoiding.

Kate looks up from Alexis's shoulder and meets Rick's gaze. How much everyone loves her - "Yeah, I know." If only they knew how much.

_**93:**_

Kate needs another coffee after talking with Bobby. She hates that the suspect has the same name as her barista, her little voice of reason. She almost wants to go to their shop and get her cup there, just to make sure that he's okay. That she can still look at him and see him rather than this idiot with a God complex.

She needs to calm down, but it doesn't help that Rick is there with her and all she can hear is his voice saying_ "I've been thinking about the victims and all the opportunities they'll never have. And I don't want that to happen."_ No one wants that to happen. Gosh, she's shaking at the thought of losing him. Or is it at the thought of what happened all those months ago? Of the bright sun and the damp grass and the pressure all over her body as Rick whispered, again and again, "I love you, Kate. I love you." She had wanted to answer, to tell him back, but she couldn't when the entire world was fading. And that's a great excuse for then. But for now? What's her excuse now when they're in a relationship, where they're sleeping together and swapping keys and turning always into a physical reality? What is it because it doesn't seem like she has one.

She walks back out of the break room with the cup Rick left on her desk and a cup she just made him. She sits with them. Waits. And waits. Where is he? He doesn't normally take off during cases unless something is wrong. Is it Alexis? Martha? What?

"Yo, Beckett, over here."

She glances up to Esposito. He waves her over to his desk; he's got a break. She gives a quick once over to Rick's empty chair and the cup cooling beside it. Rick'll probably be back soon. No, he will be back. It's nothing. Whatever this is, it will be fine. (And yet, even as she thinks it, she knows she's wrong.)

_**94:**_

"She's wrong," mumbles Rick with a glance around them. It's a fitting place for him to hide, a bomb memorial, but just because it's fitting doesn't mean it makes sense. Nothing makes sense. Not when Kate's been lying to him, not when the rug has been pulled out from under him and he's stuck sitting on his bare ass with no clue as to what's up, down, or anything. He can't even pin point who he is, who she is. "She's... She's..."

"The love of your life?" Martha supplies. Rick rolls his eyes. Yeah, the love of his life and she did this? "Your inspiration? The mother of my future grandchildren?"

He shakes his head, craning his neck at the same time to avoid Martha's gaze. He can't think about that now. Can't imagine the little boy with his hair and Kate's eyes. Can't picture the five of them at a picnic, or roasting marshmallows on the beach, or chasing down Grandpa Jim. He can't do that. "Not anymore."

Martha sighs. "Oh, Richard, just because she remembered doesn't mean she doesn't care about you."

He rounds on his mother, frustration mingling with the betrayal in his eyes. "She was embarrassed, Mother. She didn't feel the same way. She never has. She's settling, going for the easy route instead of what she really wants with some other guy."

Martha chuckles a bit, saying, "Nothing with you is ever easy." He doesn't see the humor. She sobers a bit, asks, "Well, what do you plan to do? Ignore her? Work side by side pretending you don't love her?"

"It worked for her," he grumbles.

"Anyone with eyes can see that she loves you and that you love her."

"You of all people should know that it's about more than what you see. It's about what you feel, what you say, what you do. And she's done enough. I've done enough." He scoffs bitterly. "I waited for so long, so long before I said anything or tried, and I thought that we had something. I thought we would work. But it all boils down to this. She knew, and she's always known, and she doesn't care."

Martha says, "But you do."

He shakes his head again. "Not anymore. I'm going to let her go."

"But, Richard-"

"I've got to go, Mother. I should be heading back."

"Richard!"

He ignores Martha, walking up the street towards the precinct. He wonders if he can handle it, if he can truly be in that building with her and not do or say something awful to her. Gosh, it's been about an hour since he heard her and he still doesn't know what he's feeling. He's angry, hurt, upset, broken, lost, shocked. He's relieved that it's said, furious that it's still treated like nothing, afraid that it doesn't matter. Why don't his feelings matter? He knows why. Because it wasn't him who got shot. He wasn't the one in recovery in the middle of nowhere for three months without communication. He was here, at the precinct, at home, doing his job and hers, walking this same street and being forced, again and again, to do what she seems to be doing now - remembering every single second of the shooting. Every blade of the slick grass moved by their falling bodies, every scorching piece of skin attacked by the sun, every gasp and scream and tear, every drop of her blood that ran through his fingers as if he wasn't even there. He loves her, but in this moment, he hates her too. So when he gets to her desk and sees the coffee waiting there, he tosses it without thought, without pause. One fucking cup of coffee won't fix this. He isn't sure if anything will.

_**95:**_

He's trying to tell Kate something. With every one of his incredibly ill-timed, snide, possibly passive aggressive comments, Rick is trying to tell Kate what's bothering him. She just wishes he could say it instead of throwing in comments whenever someone else is speaking.

"That's not the only way to maximize damage," he says. Well, Kate knows a way to fix whatever his damage is - talk to her, damnit. Look her in the eye and give her that same look he has for as long as she's known him. She's sick of this bitter pod person who's appeared today. This isn't the guy she fell in love with. This is the snarky author persona that sells novels to girls looking for a bad boy to save. Kate doesn't want to save him. She doesn't need to. They've saved each other and come out on the other side together. At least, that's what's they were supposed to do.

She forces herself to focus. She's in interrogation and she needs to focus.

The suspect - the bad Bobby - says, "Amnesia seemed like a better plan."

And then passive aggressive Rick says, "Yeah."

He says yeah. She gets a sinking sort of feeling in her gut. Does he know? Is that why he's been acting like this? But that doesn't make sense. If he knew that she knew, he wouldn't react like a wounded puppy. He can't. They're together. It's okay because they're together and he's supposed to love her. He does love her. No, her remembering is not the problem. It has to be something else. Something else they can sort through at the end of the case. Not now.

But the end of the case comes sooner than she anticipates. It's there in a flash and she's got a cup of coffee waiting with his name on it at their coffee shop. But Ryan and Espo head off and Rick... seriously, what's his issue? Since when does he want to just go home and not be with her? She wants to shake him, scream until he tells her.

Instead, calmly, a little bit hopefully, she asks, "What did you want to talk about?"

A part of her expects him to say nothing, to deflect the way he's been doing all day. But, for once, he meets her eye and he says, "There are lots of opportunities that we've missed, Kate. Chances for something... great that we've let go. I think it's best that we just follow the path we've started."

She doesn't understand. This doesn't sound like good news. This isn't - this is wrong. "Meaning?"

He takes a shuddering breath. (Or is that her? She can't tell the difference. Can't think. Can't breathe. So maybe it is him then.) "We need to let go. Take a break. So I'm going home and you go to your place, and we'll see each other at work tomorrow."

"Castle, why -"

"I need space, Kate. You of all people should be able to understand that." He starts walking away. Starts to leave. If he leaves, will he ever come back?

"Castle." He doesn't turn around. "Castle! Rick!" She rushes up, stopping him at the elevator. "I understand. Space is my thing. But I don't want space."

His eyes flare with indignation, frustration, rage. "It's not about what you want, Kate. It's about what's right, about other people, but you don't care about what other people want. The only justice is on your schedule."

"Rick, what-"

"We're together, Kate," but the way he says it tells her that they won't be for long. "That means that we're open with each other."

But that's a two-way street. "It also means you're not supposed to walk away. Wasn't that what you said in your big speech weeks ago? No waking away?"

"We're in the middle of the precinct, Kate. It's better if I just walk away."

"And then what? We see each other at work tomorrow? Do we get to go out then, or are we going home alone again? And how long is that going to last, Rick?"

And then he's screaming. "I don't know, Kate! How long were you going to wait to tell me that you remembered?" So that is what this is about. That's the issue. He shakes his head, but the fire is still in his eyes, in his shoulders, in his whole body. "That was months ago, Kate. Months. How long have you remembered? A week? Two? The whole time? You weren't the only one traumatized that day, and I can't even -" She wants to explain "- we can't -" No, this can't be the end. "- You know what, maybe I won't be in for work tomorrow." He punches the button for the elevator. Doesn't even look at her as he says, "Goodnight, Kate."

"Goodnight?" she repeats. "That's it? You go off and then you leave? You're a coward."

He whips around to face her, so close the pain coming off of him chokes her. "No. You're the coward, Kate. I didn't tell you some awful secret that day. I told you I _loved_ you. After three years, I said it, and you ran away. You broke me, Kate, and you continue to do it. Over and over and over again. I can't let you do this to me anymore. That doesn't make me a coward. It makes me strong enough to say I'm done."

No. "You can't be done." But he walks into the elevator anyway. "Castle, stop." He presses the button for the ground floor. "Stop." The doors start closing. "Please?" They close. It moves. And he's gone.

As she stands there, alone, feeling the force of all of the eyes on her back, she sort of misses the passive aggressive comments. At least then she could pretend that nothing was wrong, instead of accepting that everything is.

* * *

><p><em>Okay, team, there's another five. And we had a hell of a episode. I'm curious to how you guys felt about the way things went down in the episode, and also how you think they happened in this chapter and just what's going through your mind as we're about to embark on the final five. W<em>__hat are you thinking now?  
><em>_


	20. ninetysix through onehundred

**Title:** One Hundred Coffees  
><strong>Summary:<strong> The story of each and every one of those one hundred coffees that Kate owes Rick. Castle/Beckett.  
><strong>WarningsSpoilers:** up to_ The Limey_  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> All rights for the characters and the world go to their owners. I, in no way, believe – or would lead others to believe – that I own _Castle_.

**Author's Note:** Okay, guys, final set hope you like it. It's been a blast. Ranty AN at bottom. Just enjoy folks.

* * *

><p><strong>ninety-six to one hundred<br>**

* * *

><p><em><strong>96:<strong>_

Rick updates his website that night. He posts an old bucket list along with some vaguely bitter sounding words about plans changing. It's not surprising that his plans have changed. Ever since Kate walked into his life, badge in hand, he's been changing. He's been bending and fighting to make sure that things would work between the two of them. And then what, he just gives up?

He sits at his laptop, staring at the PDF file that's now out in the universe. His handwriting is a mess. Some of the goals are stupid. Most are stupid. Except for the last one. The last one on the list stares right back at him, challenges him. _50) Get married and make it last._ How's that supposed to happen? If he couldn't make it work with Kyra, or Meredith, or Gina (either time), or Kate, how could he possibly get and stay married to anyone else? He can't. That's just it.

He closes the window, but he still sees the words. If he closes his eyes, he even still sees how he pictured it. Kate in a white dress, him in a tux, and the rest of the team all around them. He's spent a lot of time thinking about it, not just a wedding, but the marriage and everything that comes with it. If he wasn't so impulsive - no. This is not his fault. He's not to blame here. Kate is.

Then again, hasn't he been suspecting for a while now that she knew? Not necessarily from the shooting, but from the stars or the dates or the coffees. From it all. He's not subtle. He loves her. It's obvious in everything he does and says that he's crazy for her. It's not a choice that Rick can make. But it was a choice that Kate made not to acknowledge it, not to act on it, not to have the decency to say something when Rick has been busting his ass trying not to say it and ruin everything. And she has to recognize that. She has to understand that she can't play with his feelings if they're going to be together. Well, if they're going to get back together.

He really did it, didn't he? He really broke up with her. Wow.

"Dad!"

He glances up from the little arrow on his screen just in time to see Alexis burst into his office. For a second, he can't tell the difference between her and Martha or Meredith; she's a flaming fury on a warpath with lasers for eyes and... at least a swear word or two on her tongue. It makes him jump, makes him worried.

"Alexis, what's wrong?"

Her eyes flare and she slaps her hands down on the edge of his desk. "What's wrong, Dad? When you were going to tell me that you broke up with Detective Beckett?" How did she - Lanie. This is why Rick didn't want Alexis having this job in the first place. What happens at work needs to be his business and not hers. He will tell her when he wants to tell her. He's the parent.

"It's none of your-"

"The hell it isn't!" she roars. "It doesn't just affect you, or your job, or my job. I - I can't believe that you would do this. Why? What possible reason could you have for ending the best relationship that you've ever had?"

"She lied to me," he says, and the words sound so trivial out loud. So stupid. But they aren't.

"I lie to you. You don't kick me out. Grams lies all the time."

"That's different."

"No, it's not. You love us, and you love her. You don't give up on the people you love. Not for anything. You taught me that."

He tells her, "This is more serious than-"

"Than what?" Alexis's hands find her hips as she fixes him with an angry gaze. "Than you getting arrested? Than apartments blowing up? Than bank robberies? Than serial killers and sharp shooters and any of the other stuff you've gotten through with Beckett by your side? Dad, I don't get it."

"You can't, Alexis."

"Because it's ridiculous! I have never seen you happier than when you're with her. One lie shouldn't matter. You lied a long time ago about her mother's case. You opened it up when you shouldn't have. Then, you kept working on it even after she get shot. And, I'm guessing you probably still have whatever information you managed to get. You've lied. You've kept secrets. Is this how you would want her to react if she ever found one of yours?"

The thought chills him. Hits him. Winds him. If she found the board. Gosh, hell would break loose. She wouldn't talk to him, maybe for months. It would be so much worse than any other fight they've had. It would ruin them. And it's not like he could keep that a secret forever. If they do get back together, how long until she finds out? How long until that fight to end all fights happens and he winds up alone and moping again? Maybe he's just beating it to the punch this way. He's saving them some pain and probably Kate's life. He's a regular old saint. Richard Castle, the saint of broken hearts and long-kept secrets. They could make a holiday for him. St. Castle's Day. On it, everyone has to write down their biggest secret and send it off into the universe. Send it far or it might come back to haunt you. His has. Or will.

"No," he says. Alexis starts to grin. He says, "She'd be worse. Kate's not exactly forgiving."

"But you are, Dad. Be forgiving. Be honest. Be the guy I've looked up to my whole life and not some... shell! If I lose you-"

Wait, what? "Alexis, you're not losing me."

"Yeah, I am. Without her, you're not you. You're not _my_ dad. You're just some guy with bad jokes and lots of drinks. Just talk to her. Please. For me."

He sighs. "Fine but-"

"She's downstairs," Alexis says with the slightest of smiles. "Camped out in the lobby, but she didn't see me. Now go. Quickly."

He pushes from his chair and starts to walk around Alexis. Then he pauses, tells her, "Next time you pull this, you'll be grounded."

She grins. "Whatever you say, Dad."

He's downstairs soon after he leaves. Once he spots her, he finds himself wavering. He can't exactly walk up to her. Just hours ago, he walked out of the precinct after breaking up with her. Hours. He can't just go back on that now. He has more pride than that. He said he was strong. He needs that strength, that will power. He needs to turn around, walk back into that elevator, and tell Alexis no. Not today. Not for a while.

He almost does it too. But then Kate turns around. The sight of her hits him like her admission. Her hair flies behind her in this distracting little blur. Draws his attention away from the little red tinge to her nose and the wet sort of look to her eyes. Not for long, of course. He notices them. He notices everything about her. Her outfit, now a bit rumpled, her shoes a bit more warn in, probably from pacing in the lobby, and, of course, the coffee cup in her hand. He can't make out the words on it, but he catches the number. _96._ They've made it to ninety-six. That's a lot of coffee, a lot of conversations, a lot of bonding and understanding and love. And that's only from the sniper case on. That doesn't include the three years that they'd spent together before that case, all of the big things Alexis mentioned earlier and the small ones that he can hardly remember. But what he does remember, what stands out, is the way she stomped around at the end of their very first case, when Montgomery said that he could stay, when this crazy journey really kicked into fear. She had hated him, thought he was annoying and egotistical and, honestly, he was. Now, though, now, she likes him. More than likes. It has to be more than likes. But 'more than likes' does not a couple make. It doesn't mean a damn thing. It shouldn't mean a damn thing. And yet-

Kate sighs. "I can't stop thinking, can't stop replaying every second of that argument in my head. I-I thought maybe you were the same way. I wanted to talk, but I didn't know what to say. I didn't know how to say it. If I wanted to say it. If I should."

"You shouldn't," he says. He sounds so sure he almost convinces himself. He does convince her. He can see it in the way her face crumbles momentarily, the way the cup shakes in her hands. "I left, Kate. I walked out of the precinct, and I left. I'm not just going to go running back into your arms."

"I don't expect you to."

"Yeah, you do. And that's okay." He laughs a bit at himself. "I have every other time something's happened. I never give myself time to sort through things. So I need time, Kate. At least the weekend. We can try talking, or whatever, on Monday."

"Rick-"

"Please." She crumbles even more. Her lip quivers. Her whole head does. It takes him a moment to realize she's nodding.

"Okay. Monday."

She turns. He says, "Kate," and she looks and he looks down to the cup and she gives him this weak smile and hands it to him. She walks away. He watches her go. Then he reads the cup.

_96) just because the coffees are "ending" doesn't mean we should. And if we have to, there are still four more. I owe you, and you owe it to me to take them._

He finds himself nodding. He can do four. But first, he needs to clear his head. Get away. Maybe he'll try Vegas.

_**97:**_

Kate spends her weekend talking to Lanie, venting and thinking and getting her own space. Space to come to a decision. To talk it through, like adults. On Monday, the case comes in. Rick follows, in his ferrari, alone. And he stays alone. He, uh, stays away for the most part. She doesn't push. It's only Monday after all. But then it's Tuesday. And it's Tuesday afternoon. And it's Tuesday night. And they're still on the outs. Still working through it and trying to rebuild themselves separately instead of together. He doesn't even seem to want to be near her. He sends her to work with Detective Inspector Hunt and spends his time somewhere else. And she corners him with a cup in the break room. Asks him if he's still her partner or is that over too?

He says that nothing's over. He doesn't want to end what they have. He just can't work as if nothing has changed.

She says that nothing has. She knew before and she thinks she knows now.

"You do," he says. It's a simple way to say it, a non direct confirmation that he still loves her. It's not enough. But he can't focus on what's enough for her. He has to focus on himself. "I still need time."

"How much?"

He doesn't know, but one day...

So one day isn't Tuesday. It's not really Wednesday either. Or at least, it doesn't seem that way until after Hunt's got an idea. A plan to get Nigel's fingerprints. A plan that involves her getting into one of her best dresses and waltzing around a dance floor on his arm. A plan that she should probably tell Rick about. So she tells him. She tells him in the break room, in the dress, and concludes her explanation with, "There. I told you. No surprises. No secrets. Right?"

He tenses a bit, not a lot, just in his jaw. He's probably just annoyed thinking about her lying to him. She shouldn't have mentioned secrets. Just the word gets him edgy. Almost as edgy as when Hunt walks out of the elevator, clad in a suit with a grin on his face.

Hunt asks for Kate, which gets Ryan and Espo's attention pretty fast. But she ignores them, ignores Rick too. She's got a murderer to catch. She gets to the elevator before she realizes that she left her purse. She goes back for it and winds up hearing the boys talking to Rick.

"Seriously, man, what's up?" Espo asks him.

Rick says, "Kate and I are handling it. I've already been lectured by Alexis, and I'm not about to screw it up. Neither of us are." He stands up taller, smoothes down his shirt. "Now, boys, if you'll excuse me, I'm about to go stake out a fancy British party to make sure that there aren't any extra fingerprints on Beckett tonight."

That makes Kate smile. Ryan laughs. Espo says something along the lines of "get your girl, bro." Kate spends the rest of the night, on a cloud, not even the fumbling fingers of her partner or the lecherous grin of their suspect could bring her down. Hell, she might have even cracked the case.

_**98:**_

Okay, she didn't crack the case, but, for the record, neither did Jacinda. And honestly, what kind of name is Jacinda? Kate's fuming over this girl, over Rick's involvement of her. What does he think he's doing? Just because they're fighting doesn't mean he gets to have random lunch dates with stewardesses.

She roars at him in the break room. Literally roars. He can't share information with civilians, especially not ones he's just met when they're supposed to be...

"Supposed to be what, Kate?"

She flashes back to therapy, back to other times when she's used that phrase to describe them. They're supposed be a lot of things. Partners, friends, lovers. But here they are, arguing over some bimbo that is totally his type. Blonde, leggy, and stupid. No, she's stupid. Maybe Hunt's right. Maybe guys like Rick really don't change. Kate was right. Two times divorced means something, no matter how many plans he might want to build with her. Or that she wants to build with him.

"Never mind," she huffs.

"I'm not cheating on you, Kate," he says. Her eyes narrow as she turns to face him again. He defends, "I'm serious. Jacinda and I have been talking. That's it. I just... I've been wondering..."

"Wondering...?" What? What it's like to be the old him? How far they can push this thing until they finally do break?

"Wondering if there was even a chance that I could move on from you, that I could find someone who was beautiful, intriguing, and uncomplicated, and love them."

She can't help but scoff at that. "And you thought Jacinda would prove that?"

"No. I thought that it couldn't be done." He looks away, but not before she sees the disappointed glint in his eye. He wanted it to be true. He wanted to be able to get over her, to leave her. She stifles the beginnings of a sob. "I know that it can't be done." He looks up, meets her watery gaze. "I still love you, Kate, and I'm not going to let this get between us anymore than it already has. I'm not going to let us slip away."

She hesitates. Breathes. Prompts, "But?"

"But nothing. That's it."

"That's it? You're letting it go?"

He shakes his head. "Definitely not. I'm just not letting it hold us back. It's out there, Kate. It's real. We're real. And there's no going back for either of us. Or at least, for me."

"For me either, Castle," she says. He seems a bit doubtful. So she says, "I'm not going anywhere. I..." can't imagine life without you. Can't be without you. Can't even think without you half the time. "I love you." His eyes widen and so does her confidence. "It might not be the right time to say it, but I can't keep waiting for the right time. I'm going back and forth in my head constantly. Should I tell you? Should I not? Will this hurt you? Will it come back to haunt me? What are we even doing? But, through it all, I never stop thinking it, never stop feeling it. So there it is."

Rick won't stop looking at her. It's like he's frozen, like he's in shock, and she can't tell if that's a good thing. "But?"

There is no but. No ifs, ands, or maybes. She steps forward and slowly, so slowly that it actually hurts, brushes her lips against his. She gives him time to pull back, but he doesn't. Their lips meet. She pulls back and shakes her head. "But nothing. This is it, Castle. This is how the story ends, remember?"

He glances from her eyes to the pot of coffee. "I don't get my last two cups first?"

"I don't know. I might need time," she says with a tiny smirk. He chuckles. It's a little bit better. A lot happier though. A lot calmer. More content.

"Well, if you're working on that, maybe I should be working on something. My own project. One hundred sandwiches." She laughs. "No? One hundred witty one liners? Wild theories? TV shows in a year?"

"Shut up, Castle."

"One hundred ways to tell your loved one that you'd rather he be silent?"

"How about one hundred ways to kill you?"

Rick considers it. "Nah, don't want you getting any ideas. Though, speaking of killing, don't we have a case to solve?"

_**99:**_

"I can't believe it was the rapper," Rick says. "How stereotypical."

Kate laughs, pausing at the board to make sure she doesn't mess up anything. Time to take it down. Do some paperwork. Pack it in.

Detective Inspector Hunt appears. Rick gives the guy a once over before walking towards Espo's desk. Hunt moves into Rick's spot with ease. It's kind of interesting how he's been doing that all along. First, he looks like a suspect and winds up helping to solve the case. Then, he goes with her into interrogations and investigations. He gets her all dolled up to get information and takes her on the dance floor because it's 'a perfect vantage point.' Hell, he even said it was a good thing he wasn't really NYPD. He's a British Castle, without the books and with a bit more modesty. A lot more modesty. The point is, even if he acts like Castle, he's not. He never could be. She says no when he asks her for a drink, and she doesn't even consider calling him to change her answer. Especially not when Rick returns with this crazy new idea of his. He says he won't tell her here. So she takes him back to her place.

She fixes him a cup of coffee, and they wind up lying on her couch. Talking about what to do, how to proceed, how to keep things strong between the two of them. They get to the topic of secrets, of snooping, of hiding things. Again, it makes Rick a little fidgety. She wonders how long it will take for that to blow over. Hopefully soon. She doesn't want to let another second slip away. She wants it all, starting now and ending somewhere far away. Somewhere along the line, there'll be a big white dress and a little blue bundle and she won't just be a cop, or Kate. She'll be something more. And when she thinks of that, when she considers it all wrapped up in his arms, she thinks the same four words that brought her to the first coffee. _I think I'm ready. I think I am._

_**100:**_

The next morning, Kate gives Rick the original #18 cup. She reads it aloud to him, number and all. "Number eighteen: Good morning, my darling. I love you." He says he'll save the cup. Frame it. Put it near his first rejection letter for now, but later, sometime in that one day they keep talking about, he'll put it somewhere special. She asks where and he paints a scene for her.

One day, they'll own a coffee shop. It'll be a family business. Kate will make the coffee. Alexis and at least one of the younger children will serve it. And whenever Martha isn't entertaining the customers with some Shakespearean monologue, Rick will read the novels he's writing from behind the counter to them. It will be extremely successful, and they'll call it _Always_

* * *

><p>That's the end folks.<p>

Again, I hope you liked it. I cannot thank you all enough for the love this story has gotten. As I'm writing this AN, it has 286 favorites, 632 reviews, and 640 alerts. I still don't understand exactly how it happened that you all fell for this story. But I thank you for it just the same. Thank you to every person who has reviewed, commented on LJ, or liked on Tumblr. You all are the reason this has been so successful and has been completed. And, if you're up for it, I'd love to start that next journey that Rick was joking about. But only if you want it and you tell me as much, plus I really do want to know if you liked the last chapter or not. So, for the last time (in this installment anyway) what are you thinking?


	21. epilogue, or start of new one

**chapters:** prologue / preface  
><strong>fandom:<strong> _castle_  
><strong>characterpairing:** castle/beckett  
><strong>rating:<strong> t  
><strong>word count:<strong> 831  
><strong>summary:<strong> you'll see it very soon.

**author's note:** the end of this episode and the promo for "Always" sealed it. I couldn't resist, so I wrote something. It's the prologue, or number zero for the sequel. I'm posting it here. Hope you like and hope you like what the next set is going to be.

* * *

><p>zero<p>

* * *

><p><em><strong>0:<strong>_

Kate should've known this would happen. Everything's been... perfect. Two weeks of perfect. From the headless case that Rick just had to get involved with to the zombies wrapping up nicely - it's too good. Too sweet. She should've been expecting the bomb to fall, the storm to hit, the dragon to resurface and burn down the house they're just now building properly.

She's huddled in the corner of the couch, her feet pulled under her and her eyes... they're so far away she might as well be on the zombie drug. It's hard to think. Hard to breathe. That makes her laugh a bit. She should be used to these feelings by now. Yet, they hit her hard. Strong. Winding her to the point where she's having flashbacks to being in the hallway during the sniper case or that second night at her dad's place.

Now, that night, it was the first real night of her not being in the hospital and not just being exhausted. She was awake. She was trying not to be, but she was on a lot of meds, cooped up in a bed, with crickets and a blanket from her childhood thrown over her legs. She would blink and hours would go by. Until suddenly she blinked and time went in reverse. She was back on that field, with her sniper, and her mentor in the ground, and her Castle too far out of reach. The room spun around her. Spun and spun and tossed and eventually her throat started to burn. She didn't even recognize that she was screaming at the time. Her dad told her as much. Told her he didn't know what to do with her. She wasn't shaking. She wasn't moving. She was lying on the bed, paralyzed with fear, petrified. She was just looking out and screaming. He sat there, trying to calm her down for over an hour. And when she came to, the crickets were silent, the blanket was gone, and the pain in her chest refused to go away. She asked him to stay with her that night. First time since her mom died, and neither of them slept.

"Kate?"

Rick's head is in the doorway. He looks at her, steps in. He's staring in that way that makes her want to fix her hair. How bad is it? She's been here for a while. It's probably awful, but she can't bring herself to move the hand to fix it. She does offer him a weak smile though. Or is it a grimace?

He reaches her and lowers himself onto the ground so that they're at eye level. "You've got to talk to me, Kate. You have to. We can't just bottle things up. You know that."

She knows a lot of things. She knows that she's the youngest female detective in the NYPD. She knows that Alexis is going to wind up graduating top of her class at Columbia. She even knows that this case is going to destroy her. She just doesn't know how to tell him that. How to tell him that it's okay because this is what happens whenever her life gets too perfect. This has to happen.

She wants to say it. She says, "I know," instead. He takes her hand. Kisses it. She sighs at the touch. Breathes. He seems to take that as a good sign and repeats it. He kisses her knuckles again and again. Each time, she breaths a little bit better, a little bit easier. She starts counting them. Six, seven, eight. And she forces away the memories. Twelve, thirteen, fourteen. She brings herself to this moment. To them. Eighteen, nineteen. She turns her body, pulls her legs out a bit and turns herself so that she's fully facing him. Twenty-one. Their eyes meet. Twenty-two. He whispers, "I -" twenty-three "- love -" twenty-four "- you." Twenty-five. She catches his lips with her own.

She whispers back, "Always." And he grins at her in this sad sort of way. Not exactly the best circumstances. She rises from the couch then and pulls him along with her. They get to the kitchen and she starts up the coffee machine. As it brews, she gets a mug down and grabs a pen. She starts to write on it while he looks on. Then, when the coffee's done, she fixes his cup and hands it to him.

He takes a sip before he looks at the cup, which reads: _This cup is for my boyfriend. You might know him – handsome guy, thinks he can charm the world, wears his heart on his sleeve. If you see him, tell him he owes me __at least__ one hundred kisses._

He grins again, and it's not so sad. He clarifies, "At least?" She nods. "Starting when?"

"Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," he agrees, but just because he starts tomorrow doesn't mean he can't practice tonight.

(For the record, Kate knew that was going to happen too.)

* * *

><p><em>So there you go folks. The beginning of our next adventure. I'll be posting next week after the life ruining season finale. Author alert and follow on TumblrTwitter to make sure you don't miss it. _Might be helpful if I give you my writing Tumblr url; it's gleesanatomy_. So there you go! So follow and sleep and recover and get ready for what's to come. One Hundred Kisses (At Least).  
><em>

_Until then, what are you thinking loves - about anything like "Undead Again", "Always", this?_


End file.
